TDWP: Enough Sunrises and Sunsets
by bearblue
Summary: Andy only means to help when she makes an offer that a vampire can't refuse. Little does she realize her whole life is about to change. (AU, but essentially after the movie/book events)
1. Chapter 1

**Title: TDWP: Enough Sunrises and Sunsets**

Pairing: Miranda / Andy / Emily /

Other?Maybe. Undecided. But definitely the above.

Rating: M, NC17, NSFW

Summary: **Andy only means to help when she makes an offer that a vampire can't refuse. Little does she realize her whole life is about to change.**

Words: **This Work is still Beta and UNFINISHED!**

Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction, which pretty well guarantees that " ownership, " of the some of the characters belongs to others (Lauren Weisberger and 20th Century Fox) and and that this work is entirely based on affection. This is not-for-profit, but for praise or at least enjoyment.

Beta Readers: Thank yous go to - Melanacious, LadyDragonstorm, Bonnie, Shesgottaread, and Blackgrl71 - my extraordinary friends.

Email: bearblue1

Website: .

A/N - I am posting this very unfinished story as a form of an apology. It's new and it has 19 going on 20 chapters so far. It is ***UNFINISHED!*** even at 19 chapters and like many of my other stories, it could linger for years that way or not. I don't know. But… this is the one story I have that has *full* chapters of unseen something or another (aside from my beta readers). I wrote these chapters two years ago, just so you know. And, of course, it cuts out right when it's getting interesting. If you can deal with that, then it is my hope that you will find a joy in reading this.

A/N - All author notes and disclaimers are spoilery by nature, it's the nature of things.

A/N - This is a "get 'em together" story

A/N - This fiction likely draws from several sources for inspiration - it mostly follows TDWP movie canon as a starting point, however. I did do a few cameos you might spot, but not enough to call this a crossover yet. That could change. Also: The vampires and some otherkin in this story are pretty much completely of my own making and likely to drive someone nuts because they're not not "true" vampires or monsters of some sort or another. This isn't an apology, so much as a *stamp* **Non-traditional Common Monster Type** *endstamp* warning. Hopefully it's not too fluffy, but we'll just put out that the vampires in this story do not twinkle in sunlight. Unless they're wearing glitter for a fashion thing. Not that I have anything against twinkling vampires. They're pretty too.

A/N - I hereby label this story AU. While it starts from the movie core, it is set in a reality that is both magical and dangerous. Here there be vampires and other spooky things. *stamp* **AU** *endstamp*

A/N - This story hints at blood-play and some tropes that contribute to a story of that nature. While it's very mild in comparison to some, there's always the hint of "danger" and stories get told and maybe a little blood and sex and who knows what will trigger some people so *stamp* **AltSEX** *endstamp*

A/N - This story has serious, definite hints of "bad things that happened to good people." And good people sometimes make life and death choices when sad or hurt. *stamp* **TRIGGER** Warning *endstamp* Also, it uses a standard "mystery illness," trope. Please forgive me. It's for the story. *stamp* **TROPE!** *endstamp*

A/N - Plural/Poly relationships happen to be one of my favorite playgrounds. *stamp* **POLYAMORY** *endstamp*

A/N - This story uses a mystical creatures of the dangerous kind setting, which means that some events are darker and more dangerous and possibly unfriendly. *stamp* **MAYHEM!** *endstamp*

A/N - I have decided, just for my sanity, that family and really good friend names shall remain generally consistent. Thus, Andy's father is Richard and her mother is CeCe, etc. This will go for Miranda's family and friends too. For instance, Miranda has a very good friend, Nan and her two canon daughters, Caroline and Cassidy. The family rule, shall remain consistent across my DWP stories. Though you may see them behaving differently according to their different realities, I shall make some effort to keep characterizations consistent also.

A/N - This story has has dollops of angst, but I am not prone to ending stories badly.

LJ Tags: all: fiction, user: bearblue, rating: nc-17, pairing: andy/miranda, status: incomplete, genre: romance, genre: spooky

\- TDWP -

Part 1

Next

The last thing Andrea Sachs from Cincinnati, Ohio had ever thought she'd be doing in her life, was arguing with a down-on-his-luck vampire about why it was okay to donate a little blood. Not a lot, mind you, but enough to get him back on his feet and on his way. "Look, Vlad," she said, though that was not his name. He'd refused to give it to her. "I used to donate at the Red Cross. I haven't got any catchy diseases, though I may be flavored a little differently than you're used to. I got a tiny medical condition, but haven't medicated aside from the alcohol in a couple of weeks, so there isn't going to be any funky flavors you wouldn't expect. It's no big deal. I haven't got to be anywhere tomorrow or the next day. You haven't attacked me out of hand, so you're not a newbie, and you're arguing with me, so you're not interested in killing me. I don't mind loaning a few pints, especially if it keeps you from taking some irresponsibly later, because you can't stop yourself. All I ask, nay demand, is that you don't drink me dry, you don't enslave me, keep me against my will, and you don't turn me. Oh, and get me a cab so I can get home. I'll pay, but I don't have any numbers for the cabs in this town. I'm staying at..." Andy pawed a back pocket of her True Religion jeans and then carefully read the card out loud. She tucked the card back. "It's not the best hotel, but it's swank enough for me."

Vlad stared at Andy, from across a barstool, and then blinked. Slowly. The hotel she mentioned was far more than swank and was a very upscale casino in Las Vegas. Andy, who hadn't looked at him once she'd started her spiel, took another healthy sip of the whiskey she'd ordered. There was no follow up cough, but a smooth sigh that escaped her lush red lips.

She had been effectively drinking out a frustration before the conversation. The brunette, with short, spiky hair, let the wheel of the stool carry her around so she was facing the man. He was taller and much skinnier than her, though he had been slouching more. He was pretty in a pale, but dark and handsome kind of way. His eyes were an incredible blue.

Andy owned that might be why she'd even started talking with him.

"Why would you offer this?" His words held a touch of wonder and a hint of foreign lands that had been domesticated by North American English.

Andy considered, gazing at him with kind, but firm expression. Her eyes were a toasted brown that one could get lost in. "You need it. You're a sentient being, and not evil. Everyone deserves a helping hand now and then. It's a new experience for me. I might write about it, if you don't mind, but I wouldn't name names. I just like writing."

Now he showed his teeth, flashing them as if to scare her. "And how do you know I'm not evil."

She didn't even flinch. "I just do. But if it makes you feel any better, I've read and researched a lot. I was a journalist and I have a cousin..."

"Ah. A relative." The vampire's expression suddenly lightened, though his expression remained serious. He asked, very carefully, watching her eyes, "Do you know your cousin's... blood family."

"He probably told me once, but it's not something that I've kept locked in my heart or anything." That was a tiny little fib, but a necessary one. No need to frighten the vampire, after all, he wasn't the one who'd caused family uproar. Andy considered, "He has a tattoo." She pointed at the webbing between her thumb and index finger on her right hand. "It's like the hospital sigil, only with one snake instead of two."

The vampire's expression did more than soften. It opened. "Asclepius."

Andrea pointed. "Yes. That's it."

He stared at her, not quite open mouthed. "What are you?"

Andy looked past his shoulder, at the clock on the wall over the back restroom hallway, "Ready to go back to the hotel, I think." Then she looked at him, and gave him a truer answer, "I'm nothing special, Vlad. I can tell you that much."

"Not just any one is accepted into Asclepius." It had nothing to do with acceptance, but the word was closest to one he could give her. They were a kind, very special, only bound to clan by choice, never by blood or coercion; even if they were turned.

"That's my cousin. I'm just a relative."

The vampire reached and then dropped his hand before grasping hers. "You do not understand."

"There's a lot I don't understand about a lot of things, Vlad. But this I know, you've had a rough turn. You're an okay guy. I'm not offering out of pity. I'm offering because I can, while I can. But my conditions are firm."

Vlad turned away and stared at the drink he'd been nursing. Then, he picked it up and in one fell swoop finished it off. "I accept your conditions, but prefer privacy." He certainly couldn't reject the offer, not now.

Andy nodded. "Sure."

Privacy where vampires are concerned might connote shadowy corners in a dark alleyway in the pitch of night. However, despite legends, most vampires walked in daylight just as well as night; any hour was fine so long as they were fit. The inability to handle light had more to do with the kind of vampire one was and their age, rather than the mere point of being one. So when Vlad said someplace private, Andy knew that was all he meant.

They went for a walk, to a nice tree-filled, blue-sky park; one with a baseball diamond and sundry other run and play in the dirt spaces and enough people around, she could scream for help if she wanted. They found a quiet bench, one that did in fact, sit comfortably in the shade and out of the way, but one that wasn't too far from the road either.

"Are you..." he started to ask. Pride kept his voice quiet, but his eyes remained sharp.

"Sure." Andy said firmly. She finally said, just as quietly, "I hear your people's politics can be hell. I have no interest in the shenanigans, but If it were my cousin, in your state, I'd hope someone would."

The vampire nodded sharply, once, but did not mention that it really was the opposite. Her cousin would never have such a worry.

Or rather shouldn't.

Actually, considering, he shouldn't have had such a worry either, but his fall had more to do with heartbreak than with politics. Well. Perhaps a little of both.

"Normally, I would prefer a room, but I am not ready to be with another."

Andy exhaled, and then nodded. "I hear you bro."

A wealth of sorrow poured into those meager words, but it caused a flicker of a smile to slide across his face. He held his hand out, "Your arm please?"

Andrea wore a short sleeve blouse, fortunately dark, so all she had to do was extend her arm, wrist up. She had been hoping to get a good farmer's tan, but so far had only managed farmer's freckles. One took what one could get.

His grip was surprisingly delicate when his hands captured both her hand and her arm. She watched this with a near-clinical eye, noting how his fingernails were just a little longer than she normally saw men wear. His pale skin was not sallow or like a dead fish's; it was just several shades lighter than hers.

He did not look at her, but rather at her arm, with an intensity that spoke of a man watching the pulse, contemplating the universe, or praying before a meal. It could have been all of the above. She'd read about a religious sect of vampires. They weren't too good a sect. In fact, they were very bad and murderous according to the research, but they were devout and they existed. This one, she knew, did not and would not ever be involved with such.

She expected something like a snake strike. But he lifted her arm and she felt the briefest hint of lips pressing, which sent a surprising flutter along her skin, and then...

She'd read that there were a multitude of kinds of bites that could be delivered. Her cousin, in that one discussion they'd had, explained that his first bite (delivered to him, not given by) had been excruciating.

So she kind of expected pain, no, honestly, she'd anticipated it in a near self-flagellating way. These days she valued all the sensation she could get in her life.

She barely felt the prick, though she did feel the slide of the teeth, pushing through her skin, and though that sensation should have been odd, if nothing else, she could not have qualified it as anything other than wonderful and bizarrely familiar.

Her pulse seemed to slam south and all along her skin and up her arm. A sudden wetness pooled between her legs, as heat gathered there. Her exhale was an expulsion of pleasure, and her inhale a surprise, as if she thought she might forget to breathe.

It was more intimate than a kiss, nearly more intimate than sex. Maybe it just was sex. She thought she could hear his voice in her head, saying "My god. My god!"

But that couldn't be possible. So she ignored the voice and surrendered to the moment.

The orgasm was a butterfly of a thing, pulsing and fluttering and landing on the petals of her thoughts in random order. Her next exhale was of a thing she most wanted and could not have, "Miranda." She came again, twice as hard, but with that same delicate effect.

She felt lightheaded when he pulled away. She saw his tongue dart once over her wrist, watched in dazed amazement as the wound of two open holes impossibly closed.

When she looked up his eyes, still very, very blue, were bright and shining. His skin was ruddy. But his expression was desperate. "Please Andy, you must not. You must promise me that you will not."

"Vlad..." Somehow, even in her pleasurable haze, she knew what he was talking about, could keep up with the thought. After all, he didn't have to ask her her name and he probably knew everything about her by now. She'd read they could do that, could know a person's life and history, just by the drinking. It's why, even though they were completely capable of drinking bagged blood, they hated doing that. They were people curious about others and bagged just didn't carry the same psychic images. Or chemicals. Plastic, she heard, ruined everything. Glass on the other hand offered new potential, and explained their penchant for mixed drinks.

"Thomas. My name is Thomas."

"Tom." She shortened his name automatically. He didn't wince, but he still had not let go of her hand. "I can't make that promise at all. I've got places to see and things to do. The clock is ticking. I best do them while I can and then…." She smiled, and did not name three states in the U.S.A., each with their own requirements and paths to the end. Those weren't the only ways which had turned up on her internal list, which he knew as well as she did. Her parents certainly knew and they'd argued and argued for her to go back to Ohio and stay home, where they could care for her, but she couldn't; not while there were sunrises and sunsets to see.

Instead she raised her other hand to his face, let her palm rest there. "You look much, much better. Thank you for making this such a positive experience. It was completely different than my cousin said it would be."

It took him a moment to answer. "I sorrow for your cousin then." He did not mention that it was likely her cousin had been a far less willing participant. He paused again, "Let me take you home. To rest and recuperate."

"Yeah. It's probably time. I should eat." He was staring at her so intensely and it was hard to keep her eyes open. "You remember the name of the hotel right?"

He said yes, as her eyes closed, just to rest them for a moment. She did not remember the cab ride, but she did have a sense of floating for awhile.

\- TDWP -

She awakened slowly, on her belly, with an arm around a pillow and the other arm flung out, feeling heavy and warm. She heard unexpected sounds, but her eyelids were still too heavy to do more than leave closed. So she listened to the sound of waves and birds that no way lived in the state she was most recently at. She drew in a breath, tasted salt in the air and smelled something wonderful, food, and felt the brush of warm wind against her bare skin. That was when she realized she was naked, though her legs were entangled with cloth; a sheet.

She really didn't want to wake from this new dream, which seemed to be much better and more profound than her previous dream. She let a muffled protest, a grunt of denial, paint the air and then forced her eyes to open.

She then, despite her previous and lingering lethargy, managed to sit up abruptly. "Where..." Before she finished the question, and as she took in the ocean view through a sliding glass door, one of which was open, she heard two knocks.

She scrambled, pulling up the sheets, just enough to cover, but not enough to do much else. "Come in."

It was the only way to get an explanation.

A man in a uniform wheeled in a cart with a massive covered tray and sundries. Briefly, Andy wondered why she didn't have a headache, then forgot it, as she marveled at the delivery and the young man's quick pace in setting up a table. Before she could ask more, the young man turned to her and said, "Master Thomas says you must eat. He regrets he cannot accompany you at this time. But he said to convey to you that his home, is your home. You may do as you please, though he asks that should you leave, you take someone with you. Even if you plan something farther than town. It is for your protection. Your belongings..." He pointed now, at a closed door, "... are in there. They have been unpacked. Is there any other way I may serve?"

Andy wasn't entirely sure he actually breathed while he said all that. She had a zillion questions, but couldn't think of one clearly enough, given the hunger then suddenly seemed all pressing. "I'm okay for now," she managed. Then she said, thinking of her credit card and the hotel, which obviously she was not in now, "Did someone cancel my hotel accommodations, by any chance?" Not that, really, she needed to worry; but she'd always been fiscally responsible.

The young man blinked, as if surprised that she should mention such a mundane detail, "Yes."

"Thanks then. I guess I'll eat and shower. I might want answers to questions later, if someone is available."

"I will make it known."

Andy waited until the young man bowed his way out the door and then her whole expression changed. "Wow!"

Had she stepped in a deep pool or what?

\- TDWP -

She ended up doing the opposite, realizing she wasn't quite comfortable with wearing a sheet while she ate something so beautiful. She hurried. It wasn't until she was in the shower and had actually soaped up and was rinsing off, that she noticed the difference. And it was with consternation that she lifted her hands to look at the backs of them. Between the webbing of one thumb and index on one hand was almost the same sigil her cousin had. On the other, was what looked like a golden, glowing apple, ringed by a halo.

She was pretty sure she hadn't stopped at a tattoo parlor, even at her drunkest. Though she'd come close on one particular dread day, when all she'd wanted was Miranda. All over her. A word, however, would have never done. Not when she needed the real thing.

"Oh. Shoot fire."

\- TDWP -

Once dressed, and feeling a bit more intrepid since she had her panic sit down in the shower moment, Andy ate the sumptuous meal with hardly any reservations. Though, she did eat with her back to the wall and her eye on the rolling case, which she'd pulled out of the closet and had half-packed already.

The food calmed her, where the packing had not. The urge to make a getaway via the deck had disappeared as soon as she'd seen how high up her room actually was, and she'd taken a moment to actually take stock of the room; which was hardly enclosed and there was no barbed wire or iron fence or anything really that shouted "prison."

She realized this was her fault. She understood that she had underestimated that vampire impulse to literal interpretations; when they wanted to be literal. He was the one who had said home, not she. So here she was.

To rest and recuperate and...

She tried not to stare at her hands again and just shoveled a forkful of deliciousness into her mouth with a stern admonition to ask and panic later.

When she felt full and a little more ready to face things, she went back to packing and was about three fourths of the way done when she really felt the need to sit down again. The bed sank under her as she paused and stared out the open door. The light was changing.

Sunset.

And she was in a perfect location to watch it, if she desired to do so.

She looked down at the pack beside her and let go of the shirt, unfolded, in her hand. She went outside, leaned against the railing and took in the last moments of another day.

\- TDWP -

Afterward, she left the pack where it was, unfinished, incomplete, and opened the door from her room, to the rest of the enormous house. Despite her worry, no one was outside the door and no one was looking for her or planning anything dire. The hallway was actually quite lovely, as the room had been. It was resplendent without actually inspiring a form of covet in Andy, which was very nice. Not that, if she chose to take things literally, she had to bother with coveting. It was likely, given the wide parameters established by the bell-hop / servant / whoever that guy was, that she could go and grab the silver and sell it at a local pawn shop and no one would ever say anything about it.

Not that she would, but she was aware that, whatever she might think about the location, she was not a prisoner; exactly.

So, having been invited and wanting to know the shortest route out, Andy began to explore.

It was vastly apparent now that Andy's assessment, which usually was spot on, had been wrong. Given the house and the servant and the … well... mysterious location... there was no possible way that Thomas was "down and out," in the sense of money. Hard luck, maybe, because of something else, and certainly Andy had those kind of hard luck days too, so she wasn't judging, but the man was the opposite of destitute.

It was embarrassing that she could be so off target, but at the same time, he at least had been gracious about it. Certainly he could have dumped her in a fleabag hotel; not that he would have, but he could have, just based on her assumptions.

By the time she found doors on the ground floor, she'd discovered a library, a sitting room, a dining room and a big kitchen. She'd also passed several people, whom she smiled and nodded at politely, but did not necessarily stop to greet. While she had the sense that they belonged there far more than she did, they did not stop her either, which was to the good.

She found another open patio door, ground level, and one that lead to a space with a swimming pool and a lot of pretty people wearing some very skimpy clothing. Tom was not among those individuals, either. However, the sight of these people actually reassured her. Not all of them were pale and they reminded her of home; not Ohio home, but New York.

She was not a shy person. One couldn't be shy and work in journalism and certainly time with Miranda essentially flogged shyness right out of a soul. So she decided to see what happened if she stepped out.

The usual happened. Some people looked. Most didn't.

This let her relax even further and she made her way to the bar, where she saw a familiar face of sorts. "Hi again."

The young man who'd delivered her food offered a weak smile. "How may I serve you?"

"Well, thanks for asking. I could use some juice, if you've got it. Probably shouldn't drink anything alcoholic right now."

"Pomegranate?"

"Sounds delicious. Thanks. Say, is Tom around?"

The young man blinked and blinked at her.

Andrea shrugged, "Just thought I'd ask. I'll take that juice when it's ready."

The man, who seemed far too serious for his age, merely nodded his head and then began to prepare her drink.

She turned away from the sleek bar and looked out, trying to determine who might be open to a little conversation. Then she recalled the young man's offer. "So, who can I talk to and get answers from, if Tom isn't around? I've got some marks on my hands that need some explaining."

The young man made a choking sound, and the glass, which he'd been filling, settled with an extra slosh by her arm.

She took the drink, because she needed the fortification, even if it were juice and smiled into his wide-eyed stare. She took a sip and then tilted the glass at him. "So, then I take it your helpfulness only goes as far as 'stuff to get done' and 'Don't ask questions you can't handle?'" His eyes got wider. "Don't panic. I get how that is. I just don't have a lot of time to play guessing games so it's made me a little forward. You got a name?"

"William."

Andrea nodded, seeing a pattern. She took another sip. Then she smiled another friendly smile. "Well, thanks, Bill. When is breakfast around this joint? That's a question I can ask you, right?"

His expression went a little slack, but he nodded. "Yes. Breakfast is normally served from seven until nine-thirty a.m. Banquet style."

"Awesome. In the dining room?"

"Or your room, should you need. The phone has a service number."

"Even better. Thanks, Bill. I'll quit shaking up your day now." Andrea walked away then and stood near a quieter, deeper end of the pool.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N - I am posting this a week early as an apology for the SI Fallout I just posted. While I'm tickled at fandom dedication, you are not required to read it. Because it is an indulgence, and not a serious anything and it may not even be headed in a direction you may like, so... there is that. That said, after this post though, this story will be posted once a week (until I run out of chapters) on Wednesdays (USA: Central Time Wednesdays... so Thursdays for the other side of the world, I guess...) Okay, that's all.

TDWP: Enough Sunrises and Sunsets Pt. 2

She felt the arrival of a prospective conversationalist before she saw them and looked up from her pondering of the azure depths of the pool. The shaggy blonde hair, the blinding white smile, the cocksure attitude were all seared to her memory. "Christian?"

"Miranda-girl! Where have you been?" He sidled up, not too close, but not necessarily out of her space either. "Been awhile since I've seen your by-line, Andy."

"Where have I been?" She grinned at him. "I'm surprised you're even asking, given, well, the way things happened."

He waved it off, "Not your fault and I liked to think I had a hand in pushing you up the ladder a bit."

Andrea turned more fully to look at him. He seemed tan and fit and basically himself. "Well, I won't say I'm displeased to see you. Because I'm not displeased, that is. I get now it was just business. But I do wish you'd mentioned it before we..."

"Well, you probably figured out why I didn't..."

This time Andy laughed and lifted her drink. "So, you look well-sunned."

"California has a way of doing that to a body." Aha! Now she had a state. He continued, "Needed someplace less chilly for a while, if you get what I mean." They both chuckled then. His eyes slid over her body, but not in an overly familiar way. They'd had their moment and it was done. It was a friendly glance.

"How do you know Tom?" Andy asked.

"Tom?" Christian fished for more information. "There's a lot of Tom's, Andy."

"Oh, fine. Thomas. How do you know Thomas? The producer who owns this place?" She poked him gently, causing his white shark-grin.

"Ah. Well, it's not like we're buddies. I'm actually here with one of his... uhm... kids." He rubbed the back of his neck and managed to look sheepish.

Andy leaned forward, "Well now. Tell me more!"

"May I direct your vision this way, " He waved his drink in the direction of a statuesque and sweetly curved blonde.

Andy sipped her drink, and hummed. "Very nice. Serious?"

"We don't know yet. We're playing it by ear. But, I really like her Andy. She's been good to me."

Andy arched a brow and hazarded a guess. "Publisher?"

"Professor. History. Met her at one of my book readings. She, it turns out, is a fan. And you know, the way she talks about some things. I tell you, it's as if she were there." He sighed happily and leaned back in his chair. "I got so lucky."

Andy fisted her hand and popped him gently on the shoulder, a comradely gesture. "Congrats you. I wish you great happiness."

"You think I deserve it? I mean, after..." He glanced at her.

Andy waved his concerns away. "Old news. The one you owe an apology to is Miranda, if anyone. Me, I've given up grudges. I got no time for them. But, if you just feel you gotta make it up to me, take me to meet your gal. She might be able to answer some questions I have. Plus, I want to meet the woman who is taming the 'Wild Stallion'."

He grinned widely, not bothering with a blush at the mention of a certain nickname. "Sure. Come on." He stood up and offered his arm. Andy looped hers through his once she was on her feet too.

\- TDWP -

Samantha had answers, alright, but it was apparent she wasn't quite ready to share them with Christian present. He was there, and then sent off on a mission to harass Bill for goodies. "Smooth," Andrea commented. "I see you've got him where you want him."

"Almost," the blonde smirked and propped a hand on her hip. She'd already done the visual assessment thing. "I take it you are guesting with us tonight."

"Apparently so. I did have a hotel arranged, but I guess Tom didn't think I'd get fed properly or something. Or maybe he thought I needed some fresh air." Andy paused a beat and then put her empty glass down on a nearby table. Then she lifted her hands, showing the back like she was the Palmolive lady, and said, "Sam. What are these and how permanent are they?"

The blonde flicked a glance at Christian, who was far enough away now not to hear. Those who might hear were also far enough away to stay polite about it. "May I?" She asked, indicating a wish to touch.

"Sure."

Cool hands took her own and the blonde let out a slow exhale. She lifted one hand, "This is the sign of Asclepius, which is the sign of the healer. I can not begin to tell you its true importance, not in so short a time, but think of it as a kind of passport. You may travel places that very few others are able. You may be in the company of wolves and none will lay a hand to harm you."

Andy blinked and thought of her cousin, who hadn't mentioned any of that. She gulped a little, "Oh. I'm not sure I … Sam, I don't know if I deserve this..."

"It would not be there if it were not true. These marks are not given haphazardly."

"Well, I'm not saying it was haphazard, just maybe... emotionally..."

"No!" The word was sharp and paused Andy's ramble. "Take my word for it. This has nothing to do with emotion."

Andrea started to argue, then realized she had a whole other hand and Christian wasn't likely to be gone much longer. "Okay. Fine, we'll take up the topic later, because I really need to understand this. Tell me about the other one."

Samantha dropped, but did not let go of the one hand, while raising the other. "This is the sign of the gods. You remember the golden apple of myth?"

Andy was well read. Plus, she'd seen Xena. "I do recall something about that, yes."

"You are the golden apple."

Andy barked a laugh. "What?"

Samantha's lips twitched in sympathetic amusement, but her eyes were very serious. "Your blood is sacred. It is not for lower caste, nor for just anyone, to taste it. And none may ever just take it. Though you may, as a healer," Samantha lifted Andy's other hand again, "gift it. There is power in your blood. Do not gift it randomly. When the day of your rising comes, and it will, it would be my honor, anyone's honor, to be at your side."

"Hey ladies. I got the snacks."

Andy shifted on her feet, feeling a little overwhelmed and weirded out by Samantha's explanation. The blonde let go of her hands, but it seemed as if she did so with great reluctance.

"We will talk more later, if you wish?"

"Oh, I think I probably do." Andy turned on her smile. "Hey Christian. Thanks for being the pack horse. What did you bring?"

\- TDWP -

Oddly, Christian's presence did much to ease Andy's consternation and when she grew tired, which was inevitable, considering, she felt more sanguine about going back to the room. She even felt a little embarrassed about all the packing. And somehow, when she arrived and found that the case was closed and zipped, the packing done, she was not surprised.

Rolling her eyes at herself, and the waste of time it all represented, she set about taking out some of the items she usually needed at night. She put her sleep-shirt on the bed and her medication and vitamins, in a row, on the small table by the bed, all set in a precise order - from pills to take at night, to pills to take upon waking. Not that she'd done so in awhile. She put all of them down, except for one, which, while she brought it with her everywhere, she had not been using in awhile. This was the one that soothed the time-bomb that was in her chest, the one that, by foregoing, meant one day everything stopped, regardless of everything else that was going "wrong" in her body.

She exhaled, putting it at the end, a more symbolic gesture than an act of intention. It felt much like the marks on the back of her hands, supposedly there for a purpose, but to her mind, purely there for decoration.

She recalled Tom's urgent desire for her to promise what she could not give, after all, the whole point was to live a life while she had one; even if it meant doing a few stupid things like bungee jumping or leaping off planes with a parachute. Each thing represented the same chance that not taking her medication did, although they were probably safer and the truth was, she had been contemplating something a little more permanent of late; just because the hurt had been gathering momentum. But the memory of his expression gave her pause.

Then, with a sigh, she picked up the first bottle and opened it. It wouldn't hurt to add one more day to her tally.

\- TDWP -

The alarm in her cell phone buzzed her awake with its usual efficiency and though it was early for her, she knew she wouldn't be back to sleep for a few hours at least. But she intended to, this once, actually follow through on the rest and the recover. The room was dark, in the grip of the early morning twilight. She rolled over, sat up, feet to the floor, butt still on the bed. She felt achy and disjointed, more so than usual, but her hand snapped out for the glass of water and she began her morning ritual.

She found the sunrise by stepping outside the front door, and sitting on the front steps, angling toward the rising bright orb like a flower. The cement under her was still cool. The shiver was a reactive response and very brief, but a part of her felt like she could have used something to lean against right that moment. But, as sometimes was the case, that option wasn't really very available.

She waited for the moment when the light really changed, when the morning felt firmly in place, and then she stood and turned to go back inside.

Somehow, she wasn't as startled as she might have expected. "Hi Tom," she said to the man who stood in the doorway, looking hale and strong. He was a transformed figure, still lithe, but no longer on his way to being a shade. She was sure he'd been there awhile, watching over her.

"Andy. My friend." He extended his hand. "Come, let's talk. Samantha tells me you learned some new things."

The brunette laughed, and put her palm to his. "You could say. One might call it a crash course. I got to thinking though, about some of the implications."

"As you would." They walked companionably, toward a sitting room. "What is most pressing for you?"

"How much of a pawn am I now?"

"Hmm. Not a pawn. The closest analogy would be a Queen, but even then, you have, what one might call, much more maneuverability. And, my dear, I have no intention of pushing you around the board."

"Ah, but that doesn't mean others won't try. Being immune from harm is not the same as being immune from a nab-grab. I realized that had to be why you wanted me shadowed."

"That and I care about your well-being. One of us is, or should be, medicated more than the other." With that gentle prompt, he finally released her hand. "Which, I would like you to meet with one of my, family, physicians."

She did not snark at him, but took a near seat across from him. She waved a hand negligently. "You know, it seems like you all do that. Even my cousin."

"Do what?"

"Well, when you're exchanging one word for another, just a slight hesitation. You know, father, instead of sire, that sort of thing. Not that I mind, I'm just making the notation that you don't need to hide that from me in particular. Not that you have to go around shouting..."

"Andy." Affection laced the tone.

"Fine. Discretion. I get it." Andy did not quite roll her eyes at herself this time. "I was wondering how the surf was going to be today. I got the hint that we were in California. That's a little ways away from Vegas."

Tom shrugged. "I imagine it will be pleasant enough and yes. I didn't want you to miss the sunset."

Andy looked away then, at anything, the wall, the curtain, other furniture and all of which was very fine, very well cared for. "I miss them sometimes. It's okay if I do." She dragged herself back and looked Tom in the eye, "But thank you."

"No. You and I both know it came at a price." He looked at her hands. "But I had very little choice in the matter."

"You could have left well enough alone."

She didn't need to see his slight denial to know he couldn't have. Some things went beyond mere social chores. She sighed then. "I suppose I'm lucky it was you."

"I don't think luck had anything to do with it," he intoned seriously.

Andy shrugged. "Well, so now what do I do? I seem to remember I had some plans. Isn't Disney around here somewhere?"

\- TDWP -

Universal was closest and almost as fun as trying to very unsuccessfully lose her life savings at Vegas. She might have had a better time if she'd had real company, but her shadow, a taciturn giant of a man, merely watched her as she took the rides and saw the sights. As soon as she grew tired, which hit her very hard, he was right there. He did not, quite, carry her out of the park, but he did lift her into the black SUV.

She watched the road, now blessing the man's silent competence, and considered that maybe she'd overdone it.

"Not much resting and recuperating on my part today. Should have been more careful," she commented to no one in particular. But then she grinned, and this time she flicked a glance at her driver. "But I did have a great time."

She thought she caught the briefest of smiles. For some reason, that reminded her of blue eyes too.

\- TDWP -

The physician was probably one of the creepiest looking people Andy had ever had the opportunity to meet. He looked like he stepped out of a mad scientist catalog: bald, a scar on his face, tweaky little twitches, hunched over shoulder and skin so pale he was nearly translucent. The pristine white lab coat, accessorized by seemingly random medical items, only added to the eerie. Yet, at the same time, the doctor was nearly as soft spoken, though much more gently so, as Miranda had ever been. And his touch and his keen observation, green eyes thankfully, was thoughtful and kind.

He had her medical records. These days all it took was an email, just about. Well, and a few forms and technicalities, but by the time Andy was in the small home medical center, he knew pretty much all there was to know.

This, however, did not stop the usual medical feel-up. Pressure taken, breath expelled, tongue extended, eyes checked. Dr. Acheson was very nice about it and his nurse, Melinda, a brilliant looking redhead who was made for porn fantasies, even more so. Andy did not shorten Melinda's name, because, well and truly, Mel simply wouldn't have fit that proud bustline right.

As far as the check-up, things went about as one might expect. Then it swerved to the strange side when he explained that it would be helpful if she allowed a small taste of her blood, please. A sample via syringe was acceptable, they would also utilize some more formalized tests, and they would be careful in the draw as they had been informed of her previous blood loss...

She had blinked and then blinked again, had looked at Melinda, who smiled helpfully and maybe a little too pointedly. But after a tiny bit of consideration she thought the notion that had been carrying her through many of her days lately. Why not?

She extended her arm.

The needle stuck briefly in her arm stung more than Tom's teeth had, but it was quicker and they patched her up the traditional way, with gauze and a tape wrapping.

This time, when words relating to the concept of rest was pushed in her direction, there was a bit of finger waggling and the comment of, "This abode has a perfectly good library. Use it. No roller coasters for two days."

\- TDWP -

Elsewhere, on the East Coast, someone else less fortunate, and much, much earlier in the day, also got a lecture of sorts. Given the debacle of "the Book" that was delivered to Miranda the night previous, it was not a good day to be an employee at Runway. The first victim was a junior art department employee and there was zero finger waggling. In fact, there was nothing paternal, maternal or even friendly about the dressing down. It was an ice cold burn, delivered in soft dulcet deadly words, and as lectures went, it was cutting and short.

The employee scurried away in tears, and did not bother with clearing a desk that was almost empty anyway. Then Miranda turned her attention, a penetrating icy blue stare, on a senior art department employee and that's when everyone knew it was going to be a bad horror show of a roller coaster ride at work.

By the time the silver-haired editor stalked back to her office, this once letting her high heels sound the warning clarion, four employees had been sacked; including the yet another new Art Director. He was no Nigel.

The thought of Nigel lightened the elegant and dangerous woman's mood very slightly, but not enough to compensate for the dire mood that settled when she passed by her two newest assistants; only one of which was near competent. Nigel, however, had needed someone and it had been Miranda's choice to send Emily overseas with him, temporarily.

She couldn't regret the decision, after all, she'd owed Nigel, but she did miss them.

She summoned one of the new girls, rapping out orders in soft-spoken quickfire, until the girl appeared to rattle. Then she'd sent the girl away, finally allowing herself to sit. And fume.

She glanced down at her mostly pristine desk. It was after noon and she hadn't even been in her office, since she had needed to stomp out the fire that was an excuse of a department. Her desk was covered neatly by the latest papers and deliveries of the day. A glass of bottled water, set to the side. She exhaled, letting the normalcy of the moment take away some of the ire. Then, because she found it soothing to do so, she lifted the first paper, and put on a pair of glasses that she did not need, and began to quickly skim it.

She went through two papers and one magazine in very, very quick succession, mentally noting the interesting bits and, somewhat subconsciously, but also visibly, slowed as she picked up the next paper; the Mirror. She held it still in her hand for a moment, not quite ready to look and be disappointed yet again, but once she steeled herself, she began gently flipping through the pages, letting her eye rest on the by-lines rather than the content. Miranda would come back for content later, if she spotted something.

The search revealed nothing. She wasn't there. She hadn't been there in a long time. Yet, a part of Miranda insisted on hoping, even though she'd sensed Andrea was no longer in the city around the same time as the by-lines had stopped.

It was that missing piece, that sense of consistent absence, a hole in the space which she now understood was reserved only for Andrea, that made the editor behave like a dragon with a thorn in her paw. She knew it. A few other people might have guessed it, but they were overseas now. The world, however, only knew that Runway's magazine had become even brighter and more powerful than before; a shining beacon during challenging times.

She had long ago learned how to turn her misery into beauty.

What she longed to do was show the world what her joy could do. Then, they would see marvels.

Her youngest children, speaking of joy, remained constant sources. However, their time was split between the youthful needs of school, activity and shared custody. Her time with Caroline and Cassidy seemed fleeting; appropriately so. She watched them grow with delight.

This week their father had taken them camping and touring, scheduled for two weeks, hinting at a belief that a little outdoors and Americana would go a long way for them. Miranda had reluctantly given her consent, but only because she agreed in principle. She just would rather have had them closer than two states away at any given moment. It was probably for the best, however, given the dark mood of seeping dread which had been settling slowly on Miranda like a cloak. It was as if she were watching the clock, something she need never do as her internal clock was flawless, yet at the same time, each day of Andrea's absence was like a tick of doom, each sunset a tally of the failure of minions and choices.

It was her own fault they could not find the girl. After all, she had, under some misguided notion that Andrea was most beautiful when free, opted not to mark the girl; not to claim her as her own as soon as she'd realized she wanted her.

She should have gone after her in Paris, should have gone after her while she was at the Mirror.

But that was not something Miranda would do, had ever done. She never chased. They always chased after her and then, those foolish or brave enough to get too close, met her teeth.

Yet...

Andrea was different. She always had been. Miranda had no idea why she was different and had refused to give in to the desire to find out. It had taken all the tenacity she'd had, leaving a stretched feeling of holding on by her fingertips before she gave in to the urge to go get Andrea. And then, it was only when the girl was truly gone, truly missing, that Miranda realized that she had miscalculated.

She snarled lightly, letting her fangs flash, just for the temporary relief. It wasn't until she felt their sensual sharpness that she considered that perhaps it wasn't moodiness. Perhaps it was peckishness.

It had, after all, been some time since she'd had a true meal. Perhaps if she did, she'd think more clearly.

She called one of the new girls in. "I've changed my mind. I will be attending the function tonight." She let her gaze rake across the girl's sleek, model-thin form, considering. Then shook her head. Emily had been a special case and had thrived as a Childe; gone was the irrational jealousy and the horrible body image. In its place, had risen a woman of confidence and skill, though her delightful snarkiness had remained. She was proud to call her daughter, and more.

This one wouldn't even make it through the transformation, not even as a blood thrall, (though no doubt she would have delighted in the opportunity, given how often she revealed her throat). Human resources would probably miss her. It was time, however, for the editor to start thinking more about her needs beyond Andrea. She had let things slide too long. Miranda lazily waved a hand of dismissal. "That's all."

\- TDWP -

Presence. Miranda always had presence. As soon as she walked into a room, everyone within knew that a person of power and majesty had entered. Unless she desired otherwise.

Very few people knew how consistently and constantly she damped down that aspect of herself. Those that did know were either of kin or the Otherworld.

The function she chose to attend this night was not something like a ball or a dance. It was perhaps in the order of a minor party. One might expect live music, but an intimate environment, as it was a private event, thrown by a minor host who wished to garner favor. Thus, she dressed down, choosing something less work and more cocktail. She chose a dark crimson sheath, one crossed with a single stripe of black and accessorized with ruby and silver. The dress emphasized her perfect skin, her flawless stride.

When she entered the loft, heads turned, every one. She accepted their silent lust as her due, ignored it as her habit and dropped her wrap into some hapless person's lap, with the understanding that it would be where it needed to be when she was ready to leave.

"Darling!" The voice that called was familiar, friendly and a relief to hear after an abysmal day. A few strides by both and they were in each other's company.

"Nan." The one word held a wealth of unusual warmth. "Where have you been?"

The socialite waved her hand, "Oh, here. There."

"Hardly here, but I am still very glad to see you. Did you, by any chance note anything of worth in your perambulations."

"Would that I had, but my last fling was more interested in the steward than myself."

"Nan."

"My fault for choosing them young. So few in their early twenties have staying power. But. Oh, she was so pretty while it lasted."

"I take it you let her fly free then?"

"Thralls are only fun when you want a monkey. I haven't got time for that." As a person carrying a tray passed, she grabbed two glasses and handed one off to Miranda. "And your little bird? Have you found her?"

Miranda's expression darkened, but Nan was one of the few who could weather the storm. "No," the editor said flatly.

Nan reached then, laying her hand on Miranda's forearm, "Well, then, come spend a little time with me. I'll tell you all my latest adventures and... " Her eyes scanned the silver-haired woman's face, seeing more than most. "I saw this most delectable tidbit in that direction and would love to share a bite."

Miranda arched a brow at her friend, then took a sip of the drink, and said, "Why not?"

\- TDWP -


	3. Chapter 3

**TDWP: Enough Sunrises and Sunsets Pt. 3**

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It probably should not have surprised Andy that the library was so wonderfully stacked with all sorts of books and media. Also available were e-books, made accessible through the house server, which she had been given an account to and which had even more treasures within which to be lost; including several favorite movies.

The brunette liked the perks, even if she shied from the sense of being coddled by Tom and his people. As promised, the vampire did not stop Andy from going anywhere, and certainly her bag had remained unmolested since the night of her arrival. Everything remained where she'd put it, except for her nightshirt and sundries, which had been washed, dried, folded and put back on the pristine, freshly made bed.

She wondered briefly if she should tip Bill, but kept that question for later. Mostly she spent her time observing and trying to get a grip on her situation. That is, when she wasn't napping on a supremely comfortable couch in the library, with a book on her chest and a mystery blanket that had been thrown over her, or lounging and playing with others at the pool or walking the sandy beachfront, which, it turned out was also part of Tom's property. Fences surrounded most of it, but they were disguised by tall green bushes and trees and tricks of landscaping that uplifted the illusion that this was some island paradise.

To escape that sense, all one had to do was step out the front door and see the wide u-shaped drive and the long, green, also beautifully landscaped front yard. Tom's house was not gated and she suspected it did not need to be. Not many would venture to harass a vampire of his stature.

She had come to understand that he was indeed a person of importance and influence, much like Miranda, though obviously there were great differences. For instance, Miranda wasn't a vampire and Tom was a lot more relaxed. Or, maybe not. She'd not seen how Tom behaved on a professional level. She'd only ever seen him when he felt his worst and in the presence of his family and friends or herself. Or the visitors of friends. Or...

Oh, she faced it, he was simply more social and laid back no matter how she cut it. It was California and she'd seen several people she'd watched on film at his pool, on his beach and, yes, even in his library. They smiled when smiled at, but she certainly did not go around saying, "Hi. I'm Andy," to every starlet or star that showed up. But she did greet a few when they greeted her. These tended to be the ones with pointy teeth and they seemed as awestruck of her as she was of them.

Somehow, it weirdly balanced out. Though a part of her reminisced that had she still been in Miranda's employ, she'd have been dressed for the part. So far, she'd been in jeans and a shirt for everything, but at least they were quality.

Andy stretched lazily before sitting back up and rolling the blanket off. She took a moment to fold it carefully and set it on the arm of the couch. She hoped she hadn't snored, then realized that if she had, someone had probably been entertained by it. Or they would have awakened her.

She stood up, tucking a card in the book to save her place, and then started out, wondering if she'd missed dinner. She was about to step into the hallway when she overheard Tom and another person, both speaking in a fluid, fluent language that she'd never heard before, but which sent a pleasant thrill through her skin. She realized it had to be the language of the vampires, an ancient and venerable tongue gained upon their transition. The two talking spoke with an urgent intensity and it made Andy curious about the body language, but not enough to play spy in a home that had welcomed her so warmly.

She stepped out, not too abruptly, but with a pleasant smile on her face. They paused, naturally, and she started walking, stalling long enough to say, "Tom." Then she offered a nod, "And friend. Did I miss dinner?"

Tom's serious expression changed into a warm smile, "Even if you did, I'd see to it you were fed."

"Well, sure, but I don't want to put you out."

"Andy." Again there was that warm affection. "Go and talk to William. I am sure something is ready for you."

She laid a hand on his forearm, politely ignoring the other guy. "Thanks. I'll see you later?"

"Absolutely."

As soon as she turned the corner their conversation started again, but this time with the first phrase being in English. "My God. It's true!"

She didn't stay to hear the rest, but something in her mind said, "Let the games begin."

\- TDWP -

Dinner was wonderful and it was a little less lonely than she expected. Samantha and Christian shared the meal with her, providing amusing conversation and company. They had a good time. "Sam," Andy said, "I have a feeling your Dad's been really patient with me. I've been slouching around here in my normal travel duds and I can't help but notice that, well, there are times things are either less formal or more. I hear California has some nice shops. You know anyone who'd be interested in showing me around. I'd like to get a few things, you know?"

"Dad," Sam said, as if tasting the word, getting a feel for it, and realizing she liked it, "... has simply enjoyed your company. You already know this." She arched a brow, but her smile took away any sting. "However, I would very much enjoy taking you shopping." Sam's gaze slid down Andy's form pleasantly, and if there was a hint of heat behind it, no one commented; especially not Christian, who merely grinned at both of them.

"Forgive me for being a guy about this, but I shall leave you ladies to that little adventure. Tomorrow I have a few meetings to attend anyway and it's taking me upstate for the night. Think you can handle things without me?"

Sam returned his grin with a cheery smile and then sent Andy another sultry smile. "I am sure we will somehow manage."

Christian just looked amused and sipped his drink. "You'll have to tell me about it."

"Oh," Sam promised. "I will."

\- TDWP -

Sam's car was not an SUV, but a sleek yellow and white speedster. It's lines were aerodynamic, and it rode low to the ground. The vehicle was meant to get places and fast. "This," Andy said respectfully, "...is almost as pretty as Christian."

Sam's flashed a grin at Andy, "He is, isn't he?" She opened the door and Andy slid in on the passenger side and then Sam took the driver's side. Andy didn't need a shadow while Sam was around.

The blonde competently fired up her car. "Where do you want to go first?"

Andy smiled. "Surprise me."

\- TDWP -

Shopping was a delight; there were no "Pretty Woman" episodes with Sam present. Andy and she walked boldly into shops where they tried to spend all that Vegas cash the brunette won, and failed. Andy's bank account would be flush for years, but it did allow for a spree that meant that Sam's swank little car filled up with very expensive and beautiful treasure, some of which were quite silky indeed.

Both women shopped, modeling choices for each other until they were both preening a little from the compliments delivered; not just from each other. By the time they were done, they had a familiar, easy camaraderie and a slightly heated awareness of each other's physicality.

Later, after they arrived home and invited each other to see the outcome of their spree, when the inevitable came, Andy was the one who pulled back. "I can't," she'd whispered. They were sitting on the side of her bed and had come very close to reclining. She said this, even as her gaze took in the other woman with heady appreciation. "I really can't."

Sam's words were just as quiet, even more gentle. "Though you desire to..." After all, she knew. Her sense of smell was like most vampires. Superb. As were her other senses. She knew.

Andy closed her eyes, but she nodded. "It isn't fair to you, though, so I won't." She hadn't mentioned Christian, since both Sam and he had made it abundantly clear that their relationship was not an issue.

Sam reached out a hand, took Andy's. "Tell me."

The brunette was quiet for a bit, looking down at the floor to gather her thoughts and make the choice. The she squeezed her friend's hand and finally looked up and braved Sam's hazel gaze.

"When I first met her, I was just out of college and had moved up to New York with my boyfriend. I won't go into what happened over the course of nearly a year, that would take too long, but I'll say that by the end of it, my boyfriend, who had been so very positive that he was open minded, had broken up with me. I mean, I told him from the beginning how I was and he was okay so long as it was Lily and I, but otherwise he got jealous. I still don't know why I stuck with him, after some of the stunts he pulled, but you know..." Andy shrugged, not wanting to make a long story longer. "The thing was, Miranda and I, we'd never... not once, not even a kiss or anything more than a touch on a shoulder... and it's more likely than I can say that it was completely one-sided. She was my boss, a demanding stickler and terror to the masses. And me."

"And you loved her."

Andy exhaled a shuddering breath. "Oh yeah. With no reason to, really, except... a million tiny things." She realized how tightly she was holding Sam's hand and eased up, intending to pull away, but the other woman simply covered her hand with the other one. "The thing is, the reason I'm saying no now, is because I like you. I really do. But if we took this forward, well... all I would see is her face. All I would hear is her voice. And you wouldn't hear me saying your name. It would just be... wrong. And I can't do that to you." She shivered. "I just... I just can't seem to get her out of my head."

Sam let go of her hand then, but only to draw the brunette into a hug. "It's not your head."

"I know." This time, for not really the first time, Andy began to weep in earnest. "She's ruined me, Sam. Ruined me. If she only knew how much payback I've had for Paris... Oh, who am I kidding? She'd love it. She'd laugh her hot, way too perfect, ass off."

\- TDWP -

It wasn't that Miranda couldn't partake. She could and she did. But the taste was continually off, which explained why she had been delaying her needs more and more. But Nan's insistence paid off and she could not deny that the delectable young thing they shared had been more than willing and had suffered not at all. They put her to bed, to sleep contentedly and recuperate, at a very early point in the morning and then, together they'd made their way to one of the higher points of New York to watch the sunrise.

If her Runway minions could see the way she sat so carelessly upon the broad wall of the skyscraper, shoes off, legs dangling, they would have been shocked. But, at least she was in good company, as Nan was at least as careless of both the danger to the clothes and of the height. The sunrise, as always started off with the cool blue of twilight, then it warmed, first into a sweet peach and brightening yellow.

And as usual for Miranda these days, the beauty seemed marred somehow; not shallow, but incomplete.

After a respectful moment, Nan finally spoke up, but she didn't look at Miranda. "I've been thinking about your little problem."

Miranda exhaled. "I don't have any problems, Nan. Except for deplorable employees and an ex-husband who insists that camping is character building."

Nan was not one who was easily put off. "I think, perhaps you're worried. Worry has a way at eating at a person. And minions, they don't always see the bigger picture. They may seek, but for the wrong answers. Perhaps it's time to send someone else to do the job." Miranda's lips compressed, but did not purse and Nan finished the thought. "Me."

Silence thickened around them, becoming nearly palpable before Miranda finally answered, her tone negligent and her focus anywhere but on Nan. "Do what you want." The silver-haired editor felt the slightest hint of lips upon her skin.

"You won't regret it."

\- TDWP -

Whether or not she would regret it, Miranda still had to go home to her empty house. Unlike many of her station, she preferred privacy versus the constant attention. Her children, both of the body and the blood, might find time to reside or visit and that was a much different thing than allowing minions, servants and strangers to occupy her valuable time with their presence. She preferred them to be invisible, to live in their own spaces, and her home to be a refuge to herself and family.

This did not mean that she did not have affairs and functions, but those more public experiences happened at other places, so she could leave.

What she had not accommodated herself to was how changed her feelings about her home had become in recent months. Where once she welcomed the quietude as respite, now she found it spiteful and cold. Lonely.

Even when Stephen, her amusement of the moment, had been at his worst, she never felt lonely. After all, she could sense her childer at any time, know their whereabouts and call them home if the impulse for friendlier company struck her. Yet...

Yet...

Perhaps Nan was right. Perhaps the problem was that she was merely worried because the young woman had disappeared and Miranda was all too aware of how truly dangerous the world could be and she liked to keep track of her employees, even her ex-employees; some of them, anyhow. Perhaps the worry was all the reason for this pensiveness and ache.

Yes. That had to be it. Because, one thing was sure, she did not miss the girl's open gaze and friendly smile at all, nor her fleeing ways.

\- TDWP -

Another bright day of sunshine and Andy spent a good portion in the quiet cool of the library. This wasn't to say she did not go outside and enjoy herself, but she found herself coming back inside, away from the hubbub and the entertainment. She supposed she could have gone to her room, but then she would have missed too much of what was interesting and while they might visit with her in the library, when she snoozed no one disturbed her.

She was getting a lot of reading in, both casual and serious, which was an indulgence she hadn't allowed for herself in a long time. She also looked better doing so, as the outfits chosen that morning allowed her to fit in much better with the semi-casual crowd and interact more comfortably with them. No one's eyes slid over her now, once they looked, they paused and took her in. It was both flattering and strange, but she'd sort of gotten used to it in Miranda's company, so it was not an entirely unusual sensation.

For instance, she had the feeling someone was looking at her now, and, weirdly, she knew who it was. Without looking up from her book, she said, "Hi Tom. What can I do for you?" She looked up then, closing her book, but holding her place with her finger. She smiled as he kissed her cheek.

"You look rested."

Andy grinned, "But do I look recuperated?"

His smile was easy as he took a seat right next to her and casually looped an arm around her shoulder. She leaned against him unselfconsciously. Their friendship had been started in intimacy and she wasn't ashamed of it and they both knew, through that osmosis, the limits. "I will say you look closer to it."

She yawned, despite herself, covering her mouth with the softcover book. "Sorry. That new medication Dr. Acheson has me on is soporific, but he said I'd only be on it for a little while, just until my blood work is satisfactorily..." she used air quotations, "... recovered."

"Good." She felt a hesitation, but didn't immediately say anything, instead opting to set the book to the side and fold into her friend a little more.

Then she addressed the unspoken query. "What?"

"I have something I must discuss with you, but it is somewhat personal."

"Well, by now you know my take. Ask away. Worst case I won't answer."

"Right." Another silence passed and then he said, "I think I should preface that Dr. Acheson has spoken with me about you."

"And my blood."

"Naturally." He squeezed her a little, then continued. "We believe, Andy, that you and your cousin are not the only ones who are special among your family. I think, or rather, I believe, that some may need some seeing after."

"Protection."

"Yes. And discovery. I don't know how to phrase this."

"You know, you have some really interesting books in this library; quite a few non-fiction and very intriguing. One of which had to do with something called bloodlines."

"Oh. You found that."

"I've found quite a few things. But I have to say, Tom, I don't think you should get your hopes up. My family line is so mixed and matched …"

"Most American families are, but there were two, Andy. Two Asclepius. You must know by now that is rare. Unique."

"I've gathered." Andy closed her eyes and thought. Then she winced, and when she opened her eyes, it was to roll them and then sigh. "Aunt Dorene. I better call her."

His hum was a rumble. "Invite her here."

"My mom will love it. She'll think I'm finally taking care of myself." The resignation in her tone was sweeping.

"Invite them too, if you want."

"One thing at a time. Mom and Dad are great, and I love them, but it was like pulling away from clinging vines to get them to 'let me' go on this 'hair-brained, sophomoric quest for danger.'"

"They were worried." He need not mention that he had been worried too. And he had known her the least amount of time and the deepest. "Perhaps you ought to call them too. Not to come up, but..."

"It feels as if I'm giving in."

He held still and then said, "You would have eventually anyway. And... no one will stop you from trying new things, but..."

"You have a vested interest."

"Of sorts, but Andy..."

"It's not an accusation. I just... I sometimes feel as if I'm faking it, faking the will to live and that only by keeping on running can I stay ahead. I didn't want to stop, Tom. I wasn't going to." Not without Miranda and not until something had snapped, broken or stopped it all for Andy. At least then there had been a limit, an end point.

"I know." Tom soothed. Then changed the topic. "There's a thing tonight. you would call it swank. Expect paparazzi and beautiful people you've seen before. I'd like you to come. Be my arm candy."

Andy couldn't help the laugh. "Sure. I can do that. But let me think about the other. I mean, right now it's just the two, okay, three... shoot, four of us and we don't know... we don't know for sure..."

"Though the likelihood," he let the word linger. "It's the blood, Andy. I wish I could convey how important... how tremendous... It would be." His gaze took on a new longing, as if seeing a brilliant future. "A full branch, Andy. A full, live, thriving, impossible…." His words trailed away.

She felt the rise in enthusiasm and given how she'd found him before, she didn't really want to quash it, but... "I'm not discounting. But Aunt Dorene, she's kind of a wild card. She's not someone you can drop ink on and expect her to do anything anyone expects."

"Not that you have done anything anyone expects."

"Yeah. I've been pretty staid though. I have an excuse." She yawned again.

"True. Then yes, think about it. I will not obligate you. But, Andy, the more people who know of the golden apple, the greater the chance they put together facts and assumptions, even if they are wrong ..."

"I'll keep it in mind."

"That's all I ask."

\- TDWP -

It was more than on her mind, it was a circling wave of concern that, the more she extrapolated and considered consequences, the more compelled she felt to act. It was just, this was not just her life, but her family's. And, handled poorly or badly, in a game that she barely understood, could result in more than just "hurt feelings," which were repairable.

She did, however, come to a conclusion. The Vegas money, which had led to her drinking in that bar out of depression in the first place, would at least serve some useful purpose.

When Tom gathered her for the 'soiree', she was ready with her request, as well as the party.

He purred when he saw her, loud enough to be heard. It caused her to blush, but didn't stop her from taking his arm. "You look delicious."

"Well, you ought to know," Andy quipped, allowing herself to be led out to the car, which turned out to be a limo. "Wow. Not just swank then. Upper crust."

"I did not want to scare you."

"Well, let's pretend I'm fearless. You'd be surprised how much your perspective alters when the land is coming up at you really fast and you realize those jokes about pancakes may apply to you."

The door was opened for them both. She slid in first and then, once they were underway, she practiced that bravery. "Do you know a good company for hire, who might keep an eye on things in Cincinnati."

"If I told you that I had already contacted trusted persons..."

"I'd say thank you and mean it. Do you think Dr. Acheson would be willing to travel? You know, in case Mom and Dad and well... everyone... gets a little …"

"I think he would be willing, but Andy, not everyone finds him..."

"I'll tell them it's for me. That he's looking for a match to something or other. They'll figure I'm being vague not to worry them. And my nieces and nephews will love him. My sister will practically adopt him. My family is a little on the strange side. Picture redneck geeks, nerds and D-n-D players, teachers and lawyers and the stray pagan. Not quite Addams family, but we relate to the closeness and the enjoyment of morbid humor. Ever since my cousin came out, the notion of the Otherworld is old hat."

He couldn't help the laugh. "I am so glad we met, Andy." He took her hand and rubbed the webbing between her thumb and index finger. "And not just for this. You are a charming young woman. It is a great honor to know you."

"Flatterer. I doubt you'd have noticed me in other circumstances, but thank you. I'm still glad we met too."

"Good. Now, let me prepare you for what is to come."

\- TDWP -


	4. Chapter 4

**TDWP: Enough Sunrises and Sunsets Pt. 4**

Previous | Next

Nan arrived at the conclusion that a phone call would be too impersonal. She regretted that decision just a little bit, but gamely sat on the edge of the couch in the quaint family room of CeCe and Richard Sachs' middle-class abode. The woman of the house, a short blonde, puttered, pouring a small dash of an alcoholic beverage for herself and her visitor.

She didn't really speak until she too was sitting on the edge of the couch, holding a cool glass with two fingerfuls of amber liquid. She offered what was supposed to be a chipper smile, but it was ruined by the dark hint of worry and grief in her eyes. "So. You're Andy's friend." Her voice was pitched low, but Nan heard her quite clearly.

She smiled, considering technicalities and truths. "I like to think that I am. It has been awhile since I've seen her..."

CeCe took a drink, perhaps a bit too quickly, given the grimace. "All of us can say that. It's been awhile since..." CeCe's expression blanked and she looked away from Nan.

Nan tried to carry on, to explain her presence, "It's just her by-line stopped showing and while we hardly saw each other every day, it was consistently there and we knew she was at least fine enough to ..."

"She decided she didn't have enough time to 'play journalist.'" CeCe's fingers marked the quote, glass still in hand. She took another strong sip. "I don't know what she's writing now. If she is..."

"I know this is an indelicate question, but I only wish... to help." And more than just Miranda. Nan was fairly sure that Andy was not the type to just upset her parents for no apparent reason. "Was there an argument?"

CeCe's expulsion of breath was sudden and deep, but despite the gut punch noise, it was as if the question relaxed her. She sat back on the couch, no longer quite glaring. Her expression was rueful. "There were several. And, at first we thought, you know, after the first scary leap, she'd be back. But she wasn't. Nor the second. She called after the next, ecstatic. She used to call, but … Her father and I, we just..." A slow slide of tears rolled, "We just wanted to spend time with her while we could."

This time it was Nan who felt her stomach clench, as a wrenching understanding penetrated. She sat back with an, "Oh." She drank a smidge, a little too quickly. "Oh dear."

"Yeah. Oh."

They sat quietly then, sipping in almost companionable silence. Nan finally said, "I will give you my card. You will call if anything changes, anything at all. You will call if you need anything, anything at all."

"Ms..."

"Nan, please. It's easier for everyone to remember."

"I can't..."

Nan turned, her expression stern. "Yes. You can. You will. And you will carry on. Andy... will call. She is not the type to not call for forever. I happen to know someone who is, so I know the difference. I am too stubborn to let her get away with it, which is why we are still friends. I also have amazing resources. I will find Andy, even if she doesn't call right away. Then I will call you and I will tell her to call you." Nan reached out a cool hand and took CeCe's, "And we will be friends, you and I. I know this already. Let me be there for you."

CeCe, despite herself, chuckled and surrendered. "Okay. Okay."

That was when the phone rang.

Nan's comment, after CeCe fished out her cell and gasped at the identifier, "My timing always was impeccable."

CeCe flashed a glance at the woman and, again, despite herself, flat out grinned. "You keep delivering like this and it will be the start of a beautiful friendship."

She opened the line and Nan clearly heard a familiar voice. "Hi Mom! Sorry for not calling sooner..."

\- TDWP -

As the conversation carried on, revealing shocking little details, Nan debated whether she should prod for a chance to speak with the girl.

Apparently, she and CeCe were on the same wavelength. "Andy, a friend of yours is here, all the way from New York. I'm handing the phone over and then I'm going to get your father. Don't hang up."

CeCe did not give her daughter a chance to argue, but immediately placed the phone in Nan's palm. The socialite arched a brow, then brought the cell to her ear. "Andy, darling. It's been far too long."

"Wait. You're not Lily."

"Hmm. No. I shan't make you play twenty questions. This is Nan. You may recall our last encounter had to do with invitations."

"Oh my god. What are you doing at my parent's house?"

"Helping. People have been looking all over for you, little one. You would not believe the expense."

"What? Why? I turned in my paperwork at the Mirror."

"I am not speaking professionally, of course. We are talking about something very personal indeed. She's been... difficult."

Silence dragged on the other end, before Andy regrouped. "What does that have to do with me?"

"Apparently everything. Enough so, that whole hordes of minions have suffered through the dire winter of her wrath. It might have helped if she'd known you were still breathing. I might say that also of your parents. You can call me Aunt Nan if it helps you swallow this pill better."

"I...I...," Andy began to sputter.

"Well, the good news is you're obviously still on this mortal plane and local enough to call. Would you mind very much if I came to visit you?"

"Local?" Andy couldn't quite keep the tone outraged. It came out sounding more amused and prodding. "I'm in California."

"Still on the continent and close enough to fly and be there in a few hours. Would it hurt to see me?"

Another long pause intruded, before Andy exhaled and gave in. "Do you have your own plane by chance?"

"Of course."

"I need to speak to my Aunt Dorene and she will need a ride, that is, if she says yes. Would you consider, since you're planning on swinging by this way anyhow..."

"I would be delighted to make myself useful."

\- TDWP -

After a surprisingly pleasant morning, which drifted into noon and a wonderful homemade brunch, Nan was ready to head to the airport and was much more informed about Andy's true status. Though she suspected there was much more to the story. Dorene, whom she had yet to meet, would be at the airport and ready to go. She had declined a ride, offered through CeCe, apparently choosing to find her own way there.

In the limo, Nan, who was being ferried by a professional chauffeur, contemplated her options. She was aware that she needed to call Miranda as soon as possible, before the flight. Yet, she also needed to be careful in the revelation. Some things should not just be dropped on a person; especially one who barely acknowledged that they had an interest in the issue.

Yet at the same time to miss a detail and have it later be known was its own hazard.

Best to come out with it then and let chips and friend's temperaments fly where they may.

Decision made, Nan pressed a few buttons on her cell phone and pressed the gadget to her ear. She secretly almost hoped the woman was in some very important meeting and wouldn't pick up. Nan was very practiced in being succinct with the editor. Some of it had to do with being sisters in blood, but the other part was simply that they'd known each other so long few words conveyed much.

The answering machine clicked and Nan smiled despite herself. "Darling. California weather is lovely. I must dart away to see the sights and bird-watch. The family sends well wishes to her friends and are open to visits and consolation. Also, check your email. I'll be sending photos of a certain bird when I spot her."

Well, that was hopefully not too horribly obscure, but if Miranda wanted clarification she would call and demand it. Nan let the call close and then tapped the phone against her chin in contemplation.

\- TDWP -

Nan waited in the comfort of the aircraft, settled on a plush seat with a drink in her hand. She typed into an on-board PC, sending missives to her own minions and contacts about business that needed attending. Dorene was not late, merely held up by those noxious security protocols. While Nan's jet might be private, Andy's aunt had made the mistake of trying to go through the regular route.

Nan, who still hadn't actually laid eyes on her, had not intervened. Some lessons had to be learned on one's own. Next time she might be willing to accept the simple offer of a ride.

By the time a harried woman, tall, middle length auburn hair and dressed in a t-shirt proclaiming earth saving ways, black jeans and worn sneakers, made it to the plane, Nan had completed most of her business and was contemplating a novel.

Nan smiled pleasantly. "Dorene?"

"Yes," the younger woman huffed, as she juggled a carry-on and a rolling piece of luggage, moving them to one side of her body so she could stalk forward, hand extended. Nan decided not to play the fish game, which she liked to tease some people with, and took it in the manner delivered; firm, a little hard. She did not however, squeeze. She had no desire to crack bone.

It surprised the woman, which was only fair, since Dorene had surprised the socialite with her strength and apparent youth too. To go by looks alone, the younger woman appeared to be perhaps a decade, if that, older than her niece. "You must be Nan."

"I must be. Please. Let the steward stow your goods and have a seat." Nan waved at someone in the back and then smiled expectantly at Dorene, who, once relieved of her baggage looked around at all the available places to sit.

She finally opted to sit not too far from the socialite, but also far enough away that she could turn away easily from any discussion.

Nan put on her friendliest aspect. "So. Dorene. I know very little about you, yet Andy was so insistent we meet. Why don't we swap stories?"

Dorene looked at Nan as if she suspected her stories wouldn't be any good.

Little did she know. Nan was a connoisseur of tales of all sorts: personal, sordid or even just interesting. She was very good at telling them and at ferreting them out. Dorene was in for more surprises during the flight.

\- TDWP -

Andy paced like a caged animal just outside the arrival zone and inside the waiting area. Arms folded tightly against her ribcage, she kept glancing toward the port where her guests were arriving. Sam had been kind enough to come with her and, along with the guard that Tom had assigned them for the day, watched the young woman's impatient strides with amusement.

"I am sure everything is fine," the blonde commented. She only knew she was heard because of the quick look Andy gave her.

The writer's pacing eventually slowed, however, until she finally paused and stood by Samantha. "It's not so much about fine," commented the brunette. "It's more about how am I even going to explain all this to Dorene and I have no idea why Nan is coming here, except that she does what she wants... and..."

Sam placed a hand on Andy's forearm. "Peace, my friend. Peace." Even though Andy had stilled she could feel the anxiousness that threaded through the young woman's body. "Is this Nan a threat?"

The question actually did more to still the brunette than all the reassurances. And for a moment, Sam was convinced that she might need to take a more defensive stance.

"Not the kind you're thinking. It's not even really about her. It's about who she knows and something she said worried me. I want to ask her..."

Before she could finish the thought, a small commotion caught their attention and Andy's eyes widened.

Two women, talking animatedly and with obvious enjoyment, and walking without any undue hurry, were followed by a person dragging a cart of baggage.

Andy flashed a surprised glance at Sam, who also, at that moment appeared to be quite taken aback, but that didn't stop the brunette from suddenly moving forward, arms outstretched, "Aunt Dorene!"

She was met halfway, not quite at a sprint, and hugged so tightly that her breath was a little short afterwards. "Heya squirt. I hear you've been taking on mountains and driving fast cars."

"The fastest! But the mountains were steep and tiring." The younger woman grinned.

Andy only reluctantly let go of the hug and then Dorene kept a grip on her forearms, pushing her back enough to take a good look at her. She noted several things, including the thin, dark fingerless gloves that Andy wore and the way she fit into dark slacks and a plum colored silky blouse. Dorene took in a breath and said quietly, "You've lost weight."

From anyone else, that might have been a compliment, but the concern in her voice had little to do with flattery. Andy grimaced at the tone and shrugged the concern away. "I'm fine. Been eating like a horse. Ask Sam."

"Sam?" Dorene queried.

"Ah. Right. Introductions." Andy stepped back and waved in the direction of the statuesque blonde. "Dr. Samantha Hardaway, Professor; history and archeology, this is Dr. Dorene Sachs, from Ohio, my father's youngest sister, and a Professor; quantum theory and sundry physics and metaphysics."

The blonde's eyes were very wide, and she didn't have a chance to respond before Andy moved on. "And this, is Ms. Nan Whitmore, from New York, a woman of wealth and style, my aunt by invocation of the right to tell me to take my medicine, quit pouting, and swallow. And also," Andy paused just a breath and gave the titian-haired woman a speculative look, "a friend of mine."

The stately woman laughed outright as Samantha's eyebrows seemed to shoot up. The blonde turned to Andy and said, in utter consternation and shock, "You know Lady Whitmore?"

"She knows a great many people, some better than others, but a great many who are important..." This time it was Nan whose gaze was speculative and also amused, "to varying degrees." She then turned to Samantha, her expression light. "But let's never mind that. Among friends and family, yes. So, where are we going? I need to tell the porter where to..." She waved at a man who was just stretching the end of his teens and looked very put upon. Fortunately for him, she always tipped well.

"Right. We're going to my ..." Samantha glanced at Andy, and her expression shifted quickly from shock to affection, as if she'd never been taken aback. "...Dad's. He's in for a surprise."

"What?" Andy said, not sure about the vibes she was getting from the blonde. She started feeling anxious again. "I'm obviously missing something."

"It's... nothing," Sam prevaricated, even as her eyes flickered briefly back to Nan, who returned that quick gaze impassively. "We're in an SUV parked right out front. I hope that's okay."

Nan smiled whimsically. "So long as someone else drives..."

Dorene swung a look at the socialite, "Don't know how or don't want to?"

"I do love your family's bluntness, Andy. It explains so much." She finally offered a reply to Dorene. "Don't want to."

"Fair enough." Dorene, looped an arm around Andy's waist, "So. Nan and I want to hear all about the adventures that you've been panicking your mom and dad with and don't spare the juicy stuff."

\- TDWP -

Miranda's memory was perfect, photographic. She could hear, see, and/or feel something once and she had the record of it in her consciousness, ready for her recall at any time. This was one of the things that made her a perfect editor, one of the things that made her a glorious editor-in-chief and one of the things that let her move in those upper echelons of power with ease and grace. For instance, the list she composed for Irv in Paris was created not in a matter of days, nor hours, but a dash of five minutes, if that long. The only reason she brought along her assistants to functions was for appearance's sake. Well, and at least that way she ensured there was something beautiful to look at during the drier events.

Thus, there was no particular reason for her to listen to Nan's message more than once.

Yet Miranda did, as she sought out the nuances and flavor of what her friend said versus what she intended. She understood where Nan was going, and why. It was kind of Nan to offer photographic proof, but unnecessary, as she trusted her friend. The puzzle wasn't in the direction the socialite was going, but in the hint of warning and the careful spin of a phrasing, which set Miranda's metaphorical tail lashing.

Wasn't this quest supposed to ease her worry?

Supposedly, in theory, just hearing that Andrea was somewhere, alive, should have made a qualitative difference and provided a jolt of perspective.

Now all she could think about was the weather in California and how Andy's family, whom she had no interest in personally, needed consoling.

Over what? Andrea had been doing relatively well, if one went by the articles previous to her disappearance. And she wasn't dead, or Nan would have told her so more bluntly.

Perhaps they'd lost a fortune or someone had stubbed a toe; none of which was her problem.

Miranda contemplated calling the socialite back to wrest an explanation, but she was awaiting the latest rendition of the Book in her office at Elias-Clarke and did not want to split her attention any more than it already was.

The editor tapped her fingers against the surface of her desk, impatient and a touch surly. She considered, perhaps it wouldn't harm anything to have one of the new girls do a little research on some of the latest designs coming from the west coast. HR might have something useful from that direction too. She was missing a good portion of her art department after all and all sorts of creative types found their way to New York from the west. And then, there were the social obligations. She had invitations from everywhere. No doubt some of them might be useful and maybe even interesting.

Having settled her mind on something more fruitful, Miranda swiveled her chair around and gazed out her window as day started to shift into night.

\- TDWP -

They entered the foyer, Sam first, followed by Nan who had her arm locked through Andy's this time, then by Dorene and finally by William, who was performing the job of a packhorse. "Dad!" Sam hollered, startling Nan and delighting Andy and Dorene, "We're home! We got VIP!"

The sound of her voice echoed in the largish chamber. She turned, eyes alight and expression delighted as she said, very seriously, "I have always wanted to do that."

Andy tried to stifle the giggles. "You get to tell him that it was your idea."

"What is all this bellowing in my house!" A responding baritone called out from the hallway that led most quickly to the pool. Amusement colored the tone. Tom's smile was very broad as he entered the foyer. It would have taken a quick eye to catch the falter.

Andy had a quick eye. It had been trained by the best, Miranda. As the editor was prone to saying things like, "Get me the canary yellow shoes that I liked." The hint was that, if you had traveled with her, you had also seen these shoes and had better have retained the whereabouts in your consciousness. It helped that Andy was already smart as a whip, had a good mental filing system and could recall almost anything based on single idea or word prompts. This particular skill was one she'd gained from her parents.

Tom's moment of fluster might barely have registered with anyone else. His smile, perhaps a little more strained, was still warm and wide. Sam went to him, brushing her lips against his cheek. He wrapped a careless arm around her waist and she turned toward the others. "I'll do the introductions, if that's alright?"

Andy bowed out gracefully, or rather, just said, "Sure."

Sam began with, "This is Dr. Dorene Sachs," and provided a little of what she'd learned, both from Andy's previous introduction and their quick comparison of university life. "We talked about how Dr. Acheson would like to do some comparative testing on a relative and she's open to the experience."

"Oh good. This is very good. Thank you."

Dorene's smile was easy, "Anything for Andy." She actually ruffled her niece's hair, which caused an eyeroll and a teasing retaliatory punch in the air.

"We feel the same," was Tom's easy reply. "Though, perhaps for different reasons."

"Well, you obviously care about her. That seems sufficient to me." Dorene said, even as her eyes took in everything around her and her expression was as neutral as Andy had ever seen it.

"Speaking of caring," Sam said, "And I hope Dorene and Andy will forgive me a lapse in courtesy, but certain... formalities... must be held to. I will preface by saying this, Dad, this is Andy's Aunt of the Heart, and friend." Tom's eyes widened slightly.

He didn't argue, he didn't say that he knew differently. He did glance at Andy, who shrugged as if she couldn't have phrased it better or differently and didn't have an explanation for something that was unexpected.

Then Sam stood away from Tom and bowed a tiny bit with a shift of the neck, as if offering her jugular. She began to speak, not in English, but in that fluid other tongue. Then she turned, extending a hand and bowing, if not lower, even more formally, with more torque to the offering to the socialite. Her neck, this time, was obviously canted, her eyes downcast.

Tom stepped around and in front of her then, and he too made the bow and offering, as he spoke, very gently, very carefully, to the woman.

Things went very still and Nan looked to Dorene and Andy.

Both women stood quietly. Dorene was watching with an interested, nearly scientific gaze. Andy was watching them with a worried-for-them-all gaze. She looked as if she might say something and Nan, feeling a premonition of what it might be, raised her hand in warning. The young woman clamped her lips tight, no doubt a useful skill learned with much practice.

Nan then moved, faster than fast, grasping Tom by the shirt and dragging him forward. Her mouth covered a portion of his neck and while no one could see her teeth, everyone knew. She tasted him, long enough to move well past a sip. He sagged in her grip, eyes closed and expression ecstatic. Nan's expression was also a form of blissful, but when she pulled back, only briefly licking her lips, it turned stern. But not cold. "I accept the hospitality, sanctuary, and welcome of this clan. I bless the kin-hold that holds dear our favored Andrea." Only then did she lean forward and lick the wounds closed.

Tom's eyes remained shut, as if caught in a loop of something wonderfully bright. But his response was sleek and beautiful, again in the ancient tongue. Sam's was a more primal gasp, something between wonder, terror and hope, and she righted the cant of her head and went to grasp her sire, holding him up from behind, arms supporting his forearms.

Nan replied again, this time in that same language. She turned to observe that both Dorene and Andy had some version of shock in their body language. The younger brunette's leaned strongly in the area of "what-the-hell?"

She recovered quickly, however, again, due to all that previous life experience. The writer blinked and shook her head, found her tongue, just as Nan was about to offer something witty as a way of breaking their tension. "Nan, just how VIP are you?"

The socialite's delighted laughter lit up the whole space, before she replied. "If I'm your aunt, this one," she pointed at Tom, "... is now your many-times-great-grand cousin. Not, that I'm that old, my darling, but we are speaking relationships and status."

"So," Dorene drawled, finally managing to pull her attention back, "You're royalty."

"Give or take. It's all very convoluted. I'm not sure the lines are all that clear. Priestess, handmaiden. I am not the ruler of my clan, but one might call me next in line. And each aspect I've just described all apply somehow, depending on the situation and the ceremony. But, yes, your summation... royalty."

"Interesting," Dorene said and she plopped her hands on her hips. "You'll have to tell us more about it."

"Sam," Andy said, before the professor could say more. "Why don't you take your Dad to the library and I'll be in there in a bit. I can show them the guest rooms."

\- TDWP -

Andy was a little surprised that neither Dorene nor Nan seemed in a hurry to keep her attention. Dorene claimed a need to unpack, while Nan said she had some business to attend to. So the writer informed them about the dinner and the ever-running party and said that she'd be checking in on Tom.

Nan had stopped her then, briefly, holding her gently by the arm, and then the hand. Her thumb had run a circle where the tattoo lay hidden under the glove. "We will speak more of the important things. I promise. And we will do so before I make a certain call."

Andy stared at Nan and then slowly nodded. "Okay. If that's how it needs to be."

"It does. More than you know." Nan then, as if reading the need in Andrea's body, physically turned the girl around and gently pushed her to the door. "Now go reassure yourself about Thomas."

Though she hesitated and wanted to say more, to discover more, Andy found herself making her way to the library.

She found Tom reclining on the sofa, appearing slightly dazed. She took the empty space beside him, sliding comfortably close. "So. Cousin."

His laugh was a chuff of air and he leaned his head back against bridge of the sofa.

"Are you okay? Do you... need a drink?"

He didn't quite lift his head, but turned to look at her. His expression was warm. "As usual, you do me honor. Thank you. No. It was not … serious. It is more formality than anything else, and a bit... draining."

Andy considered. "Yeah. You got that right."

\- TDWP -


	5. Chapter 5

**TDWP: Enough Sunrises and Sunsets Pt. 5**

The evening version of the daily happenings was in full swing. Tom's guests laughed and milled about, while libations and food were liberally made available. It wasn't very late yet, had barely cracked the beginning dark, and the ambient lights that were distributed around the backspace were plentiful without being blinding or too bright; leaving enough shadow spaces for more personal conversations and light spaces for happy groupings or just the usual shenanigans.

Andy was by the pool, with Dorene standing nearby, chatting with one of the guests. This was where Nan found and joined them.

"I promised pictures." Nan said this to explain the small digital camera that she held in her hand.

The socialite did not specify to whom, but Dorene said, as if this was old news, "Yeah, CeCe would have demanded those. Want me to do the honors?"

Andy said, as she leaned back on her hands, feet in the cool of the brightly lit pool. "You only want control of the camera so you don't have to have your picture taken. So, you have to let someone take at least one. Because you know and I know what Mom would say."

"Drat. Foiled again."

Nan grinned, lifted the camera with practiced ease and a flash went off. "There, obligation met. Now, Dorene, I accept. I designate you, until tomorrow evening, the photographer." She handed the camera to the professor, who grinned.

The flash went off again and Dorene said, "Let the shenanigans begin!"

"Fantastic." Andy drawled, even as Nan, who, like herself, was dressed in a summer evening outfit of shorts and tops over a bikini, dropped beside her, took off her shoes and put her feet in the water.

"Ah, lovely."

"Yeah. It is." Andy grinned. Dorene wandered away, and another flash fired into the night. "You've created a monster, Nan."

"I prefer to think of it as utilizing the talent available. Your aunt and I had a very interesting talk on the way here. She's quite the woman."

"True. Just don't let her near an oven. So..." Andy looked out, away from Nan. "I don't really have a right to ask, but I'm going to. I just …," she shrugged. "She'd never believe it, but, I do care." Andy knew that Nan would know of whom she spoke, just by the inflection alone. "I did. I don't buy that anything happening has much to do with me, because, really you and I know I was just an assistant, a nobody."

"You, Andy, were never a nobody. Not to her."

"Well, you got me there, I was the disappointing one." She exhaled then, kicking her feet in the water lightly. "But even so... is she alright? She was dating when I turned in my resignation at the Mirror. It was all over Page Six. Said she got engaged."

"Ah." Nan gave Andy a considering glance. "The dating was casual. There was no engagement."

Andy looked down at the water. "Oh. That's. Too bad. She deserves ..."

"What?"

"To be happy. I wanted her to be happy. I needed it." Andy said words, both in a state of honesty and as if they pained her; as if the world was falling on her to say it. Then her expression turned rueful, as she owned another truth. "Well. As happy as she'd let herself be, that is."

Nan reached over and took the girl's hand and then they both said nothing for awhile. It really was amazing how clearly this young woman saw Miranda, even though she barely knew her.

\- TDWP -

They looked at the images on the camera, passing it along to one another with each new digital slide. Sam had joined them and so it was a small circle of companions, enjoying the captured memories. They would exclaim over a shot or burst out laughing, depending on what they were seeing.

"Doreen, how did you even get Bill to do that?" Andy asked.

"He's a remarkably amenable fellow. If you ask him right. He's terrified of you, by the way."

"I know. I can't figure out why. I haven't done a thing to him." Andy shrugged. "Sam?"

"Don't look at me." Samantha said as she pivoted the camera to get a better look at the shot. "He's Dad's minion, not mine." She began a long, low chuckle. "Though this may count as incriminating evidence. I want a copy of this. Dad will never recover."

They all started giggling again.

Dorene had a thought and said, "Too bad you don't have incriminating pictures, Andy. I know you've probably journaled your travels some, but..."

"Oh, but I do. I mean, it is one thing to say one has jumped off a bridge and quite another to prove it. Plus, I went to a few parties." Andy glanced around, "Not like this though. This is like Hefner unique, only less filled with bunnies and questionable behavior."

"You do?" Now it was Nan whose attention swiveled to the writer. "Oh, this you must share."

"Agreed." Dorene said firmly. "I want to see them."

"Thirded," Sam chimed as she handed the camera to Nan, who after glancing and grinning at the picture handed it right back to Dorene. "You haven't shown me any pictures. Been holding out."

"Oh. Come on. You know I would have told you eventually. Didn't seem like anyone except myself would be interested. I was saving them for when …" Her words trailed off and she looked stricken.

"Show us," Nan said gently, distracting Andy from a train-wreck of thought by placing her hand on her thigh. "I'm very interested."

The brunette shook off the grim vision and smiled. "Sure."

They met in one of Tom's home conference rooms, one he nominally used for work. Sam hooked up Andy's laptop to a projector and then dimmed the lights. This was no formal slide-show, as Andy had not prepared something for a speech, but she found the first folder and used the computer's preview to play it for everyone.

"Okay, this is me at the Circle K, a tiny circle race track in New York state. You will note the helmet and the uniform."

"And all the mud," Doreen commented.

"I know! It was awesome!" Andy's grin was infectious. "So let me tell you how it happened."

She went through the pictures, stopping to tell the stories as they needed telling, leaving only a few things out. They saw her in a flight suit and in an evening cocktail dress. They saw her jumping off the bridge, line gone taut, and expression terrified. They saw her back up on the safety of the ground, exhilarated. She didn't even show them all of the pictures, though she had plenty. She thought they ought to save some for later.

"You ought to put these up somewhere, Andy," Dorene finally commented. Her expression was respectful and a little awed. "You've done so much. And it's all..."

"Astonishing." Nan finished.

"Right. That's the word."

"I was going to say amazing," Sam shared. Then, as a kind of afterthought. "Dad has a server. We could put them up there, run a few words, make a little message board. Andy could share her stories with us and we could post her a note." She glanced at Andy. "You wouldn't have to reply, but every time you uploaded something..."

"You'd know I was alright."

"Yeah. And... you'd have .. You know, don't you, always a place... for later." She cleared her throat. "Think of it... as an online scrapbook."

"Sam." Andy's voice held a wealth of emotion.

"I think that is a wonderful idea. I highly encourage it." Nan's smile was toothy, "If only because I'm nosy and I love being in the know. Plus, my dear, it wouldn't hurt to put up an article or two. I can name several magazines that would love to have 'something-through-my-eyes' stories."

Dorene started chuckling. "Remind me, since we're talking, Nan, to tell you about Dr. Abernathy and his war with the Ag Department."

"Oh heck, Dorene," Andy said, "Don't spare the gory details. You have to tell us all that!" Then her eyes gleamed. "Do you have pictures?"

Dorene grinned. "None that can go on the Internet or even the most secure server, but, as a matter of fact..."

The next day four women stationed themselves in the library, talking animatedly about things on their computer screens and editing the content that would go on the server. By the time Andy and Dorene's appointment with the doctor had come up, they had a working site with some content public and some password protected.

And an advertiser.

"Well, I don't see why you shouldn't make a little money at this," Nan had stated. "It's a non-profit organization and they still have to post their ads. Might as well be here as well as anywhere. And you can set the price to something nominal, enough to show they paid for it and not so much your conscience screams. Plus, the original content of the site will be a draw, Adventure by Proxy, and I'll be touting it to all my friends."

Andy flashed a look that if she'd been wearing glasses might have passed for Miranda-ish. "That's what I'm afraid of..."

It had taken some convincing, but they'd worn down Andy's arguments until she'd finally said, with a huge exhale, "Fine. Why not?"

So, public site and private site were set and the site names purchased. "The web will never be the same," Dorene teased.

Dorene loved Dr. Acheson, not in a passionate sense, but in an I-want-to-keep-him sense. She'd grinned at him all the way through the prodding and the measuring and the poking with a needle. Because of the uniqueness of the situation, she'd let Andy, Sam and Nan stay with her and so they'd used a bigger room than the one Andy had been in previously. Melinda remained gorgeous, oblivious to her beauty, and very professional. Nan and Doreen's gazes constantly collided as they both snatched glances at her, much to Sam and Andy's amusement. It was a bonding moment for them.

When it was finished, Dr. Acheson had them all sit around one of the tables outside his office. "We will need to run a few more tests, but has anyone actually explained why we are doing this?"

"I thought it was for Andy."

"Partially, yes. Your blood, as a near relative, will help us to determine a course of treatment to help her. However, there was another reason." He gave Andy and Sam a kind of look that replaced a million lectures. Both women managed to look sheepish.

Andy blurted out, "I meant to, but really, there wasn't a good time to..." Sam was nodding her head in agreement, not willing to say anything.

Dorene, who was sensitive and always had been, picked up the vibe and said, "This is a vampire thing, isn't it?" Her expression narrowed and she folded her arms, wincing a little at the tape that wrapped around one of them.

Dr. Acheson's intimidating glare of reason at Sam and Andy, altered to a more pleasant aspect when he turned his attention back to Dorene, "Partially. It's more of a …"

"Mystical blood thing," Nan provided helpfully. She'd gathered some insight with her "visit" with Tom, but she'd also wanted to see what would come of the tests first.

"Yes," the doctor nodded. He extended his hands to Andy, who sat across from him. "If you would please."

Andy glanced at everyone present, before sighing, and putting her hands in Dr. Acheson's. The doctor said, "Melinda, a little alcohol on cotton, if you please." It was a matter of seconds before the makeup, which Andy had applied, gave way to the gentle scrub that followed.

As the marks were revealed, Nan said, "Oh!" sounding as if she were glad to be seated. She looked amazed and suddenly paler than normal, as if seeing the evidence made all the difference.

While Dorene said, "Wait, isn't that... did Connie convince you to get a tattoo?"

"No. It was done unto me, not something I went and did."

Dorene's tone went sharp. "Explain."

So they did.

"Shit, Andy," Dorene said, using a rare vulgarity. She ran a hand through her hair, scratching at the back of her neck briefly before dropping her arm back to her side. "This is... I have no idea how..."

"See." Andy said, "Not so easy, is it."

"So, how does this work then? Is Andy going to be accosted by every vampire on the street?"

"Really, Dorene." Nan chastised lightly. "Not every vampire."

The professor couldn't help the snort. "No. Just the one's interested in controlling a supply, right?"

"It's not like that."

"No. What you mean is, it's not supposed to be like that. You and those like you, have rules and traditions. But what about those who don't? If you're right, and members of this family potentially this special flavor blood, including me ..."

"It's not a flavor," corrected the doctor.

Dorene waved a hand, "Whatever..."

"It's not like one has to go around revealing the marks, Dorene," Sam said. "And they are protective, rather than..."

"They are also a signal."

Nan caught Dorene's hand then and turned her lightly. She said, very carefully, very earnestly, "If someone who is not of clan decided to take what was not theirs, the retribution would be total, Dorene. Their line would be wiped out. And, even as I say this, we are not savages. These days marks on the skin are nothing to be ashamed of and at the most, someone who has them might receive commentary from those who don't know and respect from those who do. While there is prestige to be had for the clan who has an Asclepius in their house as a blood-bond, it's not a form of slavery. They can woo, but they can't keep unless one wants to be kept."

Dorene's gaze flicked from Nan's sharp gaze, to Andy's hands, and then to Andy's face. "You had to go get bit by a vampire, didn't you?"

"Yes," Andy nodded, firmly, intently. "I did. But not for fun."

"It's prestige for you too, Dorene," Nan said gently. "It's an honor and an amazing gift. The fact that you might be like Andy, that is if you are Asclepius; the fact that you even exist is a miracle. The fact that there might be three in a family..."

The doctor said, "Blood, Branch and Fruit. More than fortuitous."

Dorene said, "What the hell does that mean?"

Dr. Acheson said, "Perhaps it will help if I clear up a misconception." He pointed at Andy's hands and the images there. "I am not entirely sure why Thomas has let you run with the assumption, though I'm sure he has had his reasons. However, these are not tattoos. They are divine marks, which were stimulated into existence by the first blooding."

Dorene looked at the arm with the gauze on it and then raised her brow.

"He means the first bite, the first..."

"I figured that part out," Dorene said caustically.

The doctor continued, and he used an index finger to trace the mark of Asclepius. "Based on the assumption that there are at least three of you in one family, Andy's mark, is different than the mark that you might carry and the mark Connie carries. I managed to acquire an image from a friend, who happens to know your cousin. For medical purposes of course. But his mark is that of the Blood. While each of one would have blood with power, each is also unique. If you have the opportunity to look closely at his, you will see that his snake wears fangs, and the tree upon which it curls is spiraled by the sign of dripping blood. Your mark, Dorene, should you also be Asclepius, will be the Branch. The snake will be green, and the tree will be in full flourish, with leaves and root extended." Now he lifted Andy's other hand. "Andy's Asclepius is the snake with wings, wrapped around a tree laden with fruit. But this, is the evidence of the quality, the kind, of fruit of which she manifests."

"The golden apple," exhaled Nan.

"Yes. And the reason Andy is so sick, is that the apple has not yet come to fruition and the blood is battling between the two qualities. It is... missing a component. And that is the puzzle, because there is nothing in the records to tell us what it is. All I can do is run tests to try to determine, but..."

Suddenly Dorene got it. "It could be something Connie or I carry."

"Or her parents. Or her other cousins and nieces and nephews. It could be someone not even of your family. Or rather, not yet of your family."

"The mate," whispered Sam. "You're talking …."

"Mm. Perhaps. I can't say. I'm only a scientist in vampire's clothing. I can only tell you the answer is in the blood and I can only delay the inevitable a little longer than most, should we not find it."

\- TDWP -


	6. Chapter 6

**TDWP: Enough Sunrises and Sunsets Pt. 6**

As per usual, Irv's diatribe about the budget was tiresome. Not for the first time, Miranda seriously considered ending the mortal's increasingly irritating existence. However, he was still a useful pawn to her and did have a place in the greater scheme of things. If nothing else, he retained ties to people who needed watching. Their arguments, now legendary, however, often left her with an ache between her eyes.

This was not conducive to even the illusion of pleasantness and it had a way of undermining any desire to coddle or even just cut some slack for her employees. It also put an edge into her walk, a warning to her glare and that sense of danger that was always her, increased. Enough so that even the blind would scurry away to do other tasks after Miranda returned from a bout with the administrator.

Her coffee was ready and on the desk by the time she arrived. It was nearly warm enough, almost. It spared the new girls another day. Of course, few got it right to begin with and only one had achieved perfection, timing the delivery with an uncanny prescience.

Miranda did not linger on that thought, though she lifted her cup to drink and turned toward the computer display on her desk. She briefly viewed the latest scan of the book, dropped commentary into the file and threw it back to the sender. Then she opened her email. Her eyes immediately zeroed in on one from Nan, and she opened it, ignoring all others for the moment. It was just a short message, and a website link.

 _I have found our little bird's temporary nest, but there are things that must be discussed in person. Until then, you might find this of interest. -Nan_

The silver-haired woman glared at the link. The name itself seemed frivolous, but she was aware that it must have some connection to their quest. She just didn't know if she had time to waste with it.

She took another long sip, hovered the cursor over the link and clicked.

First impressions at the briefest glance was that it was laid out pleasantly, easy on the eyes, easy to read. Because it was her habit, she took a mental step back to examine the site graphics, font and format. The design was acceptable. A part of her was very pleased, the part that knew that Andrea must have learned something from her time at Runway.

Only after she had taken in the visuals, the aesthetics, did she concentrate on the content. She read the introduction, parsing meaning, intention quickly. The site offered a meager three articles, but that was appropriate for a beginning. The first one she chose randomly. It was substantive, charming. It sounded like Andrea, had her voice and Miranda slowed her normal reading speed to absorb it, to listen. She felt something, a small peace, settle within and realized she found the reading restful, though the topic spoke of danger and risk. Only when she finished did she allow her eyes to wander, to take in the true gift that Nan offered; the images, the proof that Andrea thrived.

Miranda's gaze rested upon the girl, took in every nuance, from the look of grim determination of the first image, to the triumphant grin of the last. The images were date-stamped. Miranda made a mental note to find out if Nan had the girl's personal email so she might make the recommendation of clipping the photos. Yet, at the same time, she found the time indicated provocative.

Andrea had lived this adventure two weeks after her by-line had stopped in the Mirror.

Miranda sat back then, contemplating and wondering why Andrea hadn't posted the story then, rather than now.

It was another reason to acquire the address; to remind the girl that articles should be timely in their content; even if they were meaningful.

She chose the next article and found it equally intriguing and alarming; equally reassuring.

Her issues with Irv settled into the background as she reached with a fingertip to trace the outline of a close-up image of the writer's face. In this one she looked tired, but her smile remained as a sign of another successful venture. The young woman had lost weight, perhaps a little too much.

Miranda made another mental notation about what she might convey to Andrea. Perhaps not through email as there was a notation of a message board in the article. Intriguing.

She would have to gift something appropriately extravagant to Nan for bringing the site to her attention.

She moved to the next article, intending to read, but her eyes fell immediately to the pictures, perhaps in anticipation of continuing to feel that pleasant glow; the one that Nan had been quite right about. The one that had begun to let her dismantle the dark worry that had been cloaking her days.

She had been unprepared for the flash of incandescent rage, the agitation of which had her up out of her chair and snarling. The sound must have been alarming enough that both new girls had rushed in; only to rush away even faster when she'd snarled, "Get out!"

She prowled for a moment, stalking from one side of the room to the other to try to calm herself, before she forced herself to look again, to take in those seemingly innocuous images of people smiling, having a good time, and Andrea on the arm of a man far too pale to be anything, but another vampire.

She resisted the urge to break the monitor, to shatter her desk, to enact any other form of anger than what had already been revealed.

She would not be visiting any forum, nor emailing.

Her eyes rested on the way the man's arm looped possessively around the girl's waist, the way she leaned into him, eyes alight and smile provocative.

Outrageous!

And the brunette was so oblivious to the danger.

Miranda's eyes scanned the article, barely resting, speeding through to discover the pertinent details.

A notation about a shopping trip for new clothes caught her attention and the editor had, if not an epiphany, a striking awareness that two birds might be handled with one slingshot.

"New Girl!"

The bravest one scurried in, terrified and already shaking. Miranda began quickly to lay out a plan that would take a good portion of the Runway staff to California. Damn the price.

\- TDWP -

Once again the evening found Andy, Nan, Sam and Dorene gravitating toward each other for company and amusement. It was the socialite's idea to find a "local" five star restaurant; one which happened to be an hour drive away, but one that was technically close enough to get home by a reasonable hour if they should stay late.

It meant that they all dressed up. Dorene quipped, "If any one of you says I clean up 'pretty good', we'll be takin' it outside."

It didn't change that she did. They all did. Everyone one of them looked like a knockout. Tom, when he saw them, insisted they have an escort and so they were chauffeured and "protected" by two bodyguards, both men of muscular size and stern expressions.

The strangest thing for Andy was not that they went to this amazing restaurant, but that she really felt no need to rubberneck. They were, technically, surrounded by the famous, but she had become slightly inured to it, given where she was living. In fact, she could have sworn some of the other patrons stared at them, which was a strange switch-around, but highly amusing.

Dinner was a jovial feast, a shared blend of food, drink and delightful conversation. They took their time, not necessarily with the intention of closing down the establishment, but rather to savor everything.

It was during dessert that Dorene said, "I've been thinking and I've arrived at a decision. It occurs to me there's no reason to wait for the blood test for certain revelations. I mean, we can, but the sooner we know..." She cleared her throat and took a sip of her drink. "The sooner we know, the better I'll feel."

They looked at each other quietly and Dorene continued. "Nan, would you consider..."

"It would be my honor."

"Oh good." Dorene exhaled and her shoulders settled. She smiled an easy smile. "Thank you."

That was when Nan's cellphone buzzed.

"I see one of us forgot to turn it off."

Nan grinned, "I didn't forget. But no one should be calling me at this hour anyhow. I have very firm rules."

That didn't stop her from fishing out the phone and looking at it. "Text message," she commented.

"Table rules are that you have to share if it's not top secret." Nan shot a grin at Sam for the comment.

She opened the message, went a shade pale and looked up at all of them. She said, "Intended versus unintended consequences. Andy, I can tell you, your site has been seen."

For some reason, the tone set off alarm bells. "Uh Oh."

"Miranda is coming."

Sam and Dorene both reached out at the same time, holding Andy in place with gentle firmness, while Nan fished for details.

"Ostensibly, she's coming for work and socializing purposes. Apparently there is a very important event coming up."

"Oh. I know what that would be," Sam said. "The SWAG. It's not the Oscars, thank God. But it's a …."

"Designer's event," whispered Andy. "Oh, shoot. I forgot about that. I forgot... I haven't been watching the time...I normally keep track of those events in my head at least." She shrugged. "It's an ingrained habit now. But I've been so caught up in all this. But Miranda's never gone herself. She's only ever sent a representative or two to the SWAG."

"Andy, breathe," Dorene said. "It's going to be alright."

The young woman turned to look at her aunt, her eyes wide. "You can't promise that, Dorene. You really can't. You don't know..." How much the brunette had wanted her. And even just having her in state... it was so close. There had been a reason she'd left New York. Again, Andy's voice trailed to a whisper.

"Miranda will want to see things for herself, which is fine," Nan said sternly. "She's invited me to meet her at the airport. I'll take Dorene with me and see if she's open to some travel with us, and we will either have her come with us or go with her. You know how she lets them schedule her life all over the place. If she has an opening, we will find out the plans and I will talk with her. You will go surfing with Sam, as planned tomorrow and stay out all day. You will have a good time. The only thing we really know is that she's coming to California to do business."

"Take the pill?" Andy asked, just a touch sardonically.

"And swallow. You have an army of friends here, darling."

"Okay." Andy said, finally. Nodding. "Okay."

\- TDWP -

"I have perhaps been relying too much on the fact you, Andy, are very intelligent," Nan said in the car ride back home. She'd been unusually silent, as had Andy, while the other two women had held up most of the conversation. She waited until the lull to begin speaking and then it was very quietly; almost Miranda quiet. "I've known Miranda a long time. A very long time." Nan's expression lightened briefly and then returned to its somber arrangement. "I knew her when."

She looked at Andy then and said, "You have always been very open minded Andy. Accepting of persons unlike you and ways not your own. I know we've scared you a few times, but your natural optimism has kept you strong."

"Nan, you do know I respect who and what you are. That has never been..."

The socialite leaned over, placing a cool hand against Andy's face. "I know. I know. It's just... I want you to think now. I want you to think about everything you know about Miranda. Everything you've seen, heard, or experienced with her. Think about it and tell me what I'm trying to get you to understand. Because I don't want you to be taken by surprise, Andy. It would be unfair. To both of you."

"I don't..."

Nan's thumb gently stroked her cheek. Her eyes were bright, boring into Andy's. "Think, darling."

The brunette understood what the vampire was doing, that she was pushing lightly, not to thrall, but to call forth the thoughts. The young woman thought about resisting, had the sense that if she truly desired she could back away and Nan would let her.

But at the same time, just the mention of Miranda, even without the name, always called up a memory or two just automatically. Usually the memories were favorites and somewhat incomplete, such as the way Miranda's hips moved when she walked or the way blue eyes flashed when excited by a new idea.

So it was nothing really, to let her mind sift through the memories and at first, it was simple enough. She remembered the first time she'd ever seen Miranda, how Nigel had said to gird the loins and literally everyone scurried. She'd never truly seen scurrying before. Hurry, yes, but this near animal rush to hide or be seen working had been entirely different. It had been unnerving and so, her eyes, like many others, had been directed toward the elevator and when the doors opened...

Andy literally didn't have words for the impact of seeing Miranda that first time, except to say it was powerful and compelling.

Her mind skipped forward, to a day when she'd known the editor a little better. She never quite accommodated to the impact, but pride kept her from being one of the scurriers. She did, however, run errands; a million of them daily, it seemed. She made it a life's mission to make sure that if she delivered Miranda's coffee, it was precisely as she demanded. She ran to get scarves, props, things for the girls. Sometimes it meant leaving early. Sometimes it meant coming back late, when almost everyone was out of the office; except for a few people.

Emily.

While she was a journalist and perhaps sometime before that, Andy had come to realize that people saw their lives through particular lenses - assumptions about how the world operated or should be. When Connie had come out to them as a vampire, none of their family had known they'd existed.

They had accepted it, because they loved Connie and wanted to support him, but their idea of who he was changed.

People fought that sort of change of perspective, often. Perhaps because something once grasped and understood could often have a ripple effect on how one perceived their whole experience and that... that needed accommodation. Even then, they might not get it totally right. They might only open enough to say, "we accept this and you," and maybe read a few books and think they get it.

Until a little while ago, that really had been Andy's depth of knowledge about vampires **,** her help for the family had been more on the research side of things, and even now, after spending time at Tom's, she understood how little they had known and had to work with. Her lens had been changed recently by living with them.

Where before, if she thought of Emily leaving the office looking pale, with animosity and envy toward Andy, yet at the same time wearing a triumphant expression, she might have thought, "Yeah. That was a bad day."

But now? She also remembered how, sometimes, she'd enter the office and Miranda would look just a touch flush and how, it had seemed as if things had smoothed out for at least a little while; as if Emily had been a miracle worker.

"Oh." A sheen of tears moistened her eyes and she turned away. "Emily knew. She never told me." She laughed, "But then why should she? She'd won. I didn't even know there was a battle."

Nan's expression became alarmed. "Andy..."

The young woman lifted a hand. "No. It's okay. It explains so much." Her expression tightened, "And none of it really is new news, is it? Just life reframed."

"But..." Nan tried again.

Andy did not snarl, did not rage. She sat back and her smile could have been mistaken for whimsical, but they all knew. "I wasn't even in the running." She shrugged. "And they all tried to tell me. One way or the other." She laughed, "Fat, smart girl makes good. Misses boat."

"Andy, really..."

"Nan," Andy said slowly. "It's okay. All this means is I'll do exactly what you said. I'll go surfing. I'll have fun. I won't let it get in the way of the way I live. I won't, because I made that choice a long time ago, because I had to." She shook her head. She exhaled. "Thanks Nan. For putting it into perspective."

"Andy..."

The younger woman just shook her head and looked out the window, away from Nan, for a few moments. Then she turned and, not quite ready to speak to her Aunt of the Heart, said, "Sorry about that. Just needed to wrap my head around things. Sam, you've been surfing right? What can you tell me about …"

Nan tried again later, when they had been home a little while. She'd knocked on Andy's door. Heard the call. "Come on in!"

She cautiously opened the door, not entirely sure of Andy's receptivity. The brunette had put on a good show of being her "usual" self, but Nan had come to know the difference and she regretted, more than she knew how to articulate, the miscommunication that had taken place.

She should have just come out and told her. She should have just said what she was hoping Andy would grasp. She'd wanted her to see that Miranda was no ordinary woman, nor even an ordinary vampire; and that Andy, had an important place in the scheme of things. In that, she had most definitely missed her mark.

The socialite grappled a few moments more with herself, then she heard Andy, saying softly and warmly, "Come in, Nan. It's okay."

The socialite remained uncharacteristically hesitant as she stepped into the room. It would not do to make another misstep when she was so close to achieving the outcome she desired. The lights by the bed were still on. Andy sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed. Her hands were folded into her lap, but there was a book beside her.

"Do you have a moment?"

"Sure."

Nan walked to the bed and sat on the edge of it, facing Andy. Once again she was reminded how beautiful the young woman really was. The light haloed her softly, burnishing her skin, her hair. The socialite realized she couldn't quite think of the words and it made her feel odd, since she always knew what to say and how to say it.

"Heya," Andy said.

Nan's smiled tightly. "I find myself at a loss for words. It was my intention, when I came in here, to try to explain..."

Andy reached forward, taking her hand. "There's nothing to explain. I know how it is. We want what we want and …" she shrugged. "It blinds us sometimes. I know more now than I knew then, anyhow. I wouldn't have seen it then and the truth is, as soon as I saw her again..." She tilted her head and smiled ruefully. "If I saw her again. If she let me catch a glimpse. Well, I would have realized the same thing."

"But, it's not what you think..."

"Oh. Nan. It is. She chose Emily. In the end, if it were even a possibility, I left her no choice. I'm the one who left in Paris. Which..."

"Why did you leave?"

Andy very nearly shrugged, but even as she started she stopped and looked the vampire in the eyes. "Because I couldn't go on that way. I couldn't go on wanting what I couldn't have. I was... an okay assistant, but Nan, I can't claim I was the best for her. I was just... She took me because I was the one without the broken leg. She would have taken Emily otherwise."

"Andy... I don't think you understand..."

The brunette smiled and shifted closer. "Your skin is flushed, Nan. How is Dorene?"

Just the way Andy said the words had Nan recalling the moment and how Dorene started out so stoic, watching her with cautious eyes. The invitation was only there for the sake of Andy, not because the professor had a desire for the experience, for Nan. The socialite took Dorene's resistance as a challenge, and the predator in her had wanted to push back. But she had grown to like the woman during their short time together and it was not Nan's habit to be overtly cruel to anyone who was willing to share with her, even if it were a touch forced.

Then Dorene had offered her neck, an unconscious proposal and the sinewy length was beautiful enough that Nan's fangs had revealed themselves with the quick burst of want she'd felt. She'd taken up the invite, slid into Dorene's open arms as if they were just going to hug, and laid her lips upon the point of life. She bit, her teeth a slow gentle slide, erotically given, because she wanted Dorene to have pleasure because of her.

She had been utterly unprepared, even with the exchange of stories. She had not grasped the entirety of who Dorene was, of her complexity, of the way her essence would shade to something so full, so powerful. So endearing. Magical.

She could not recall ever having been impacted so immediately, so completely. No one had ever affected her thus.

She longed for another taste and not just of the blood.

Nan's expression remained gently impassive, guarded, not wishing to reveal something that had, in essence, been personal to herself and Dorene. "She's... resting."

"Blissfully, I bet." Andy smiled, a knowing glint in her eyes. "You'd be like Tom that way." She scooted closer, until her knee was just barely pressed against Nan's. "He kissed my wrist."

"Andy."

The brunette touched the vampire's face, her fingertips drew down soft, silken skin, until they rested on Nan's lips. "It was more intimate than I expected. More gentle. Everything we ever read is how the bite is a violation, a seduction. But it wasn't." Her touch drifted way and Nan missed it immediately.

Andy exhaled. "I think Tom knew immediately. About me, I mean. Aside from my whole life, or at least the portion of my life that he picked up on. I'm not entirely sure how it all works. But he knew what I was."

Nan understood the question then. "She is the Branch."

Andy nodded, looking away for a moment, but her hand rested on Nan's thigh. "What was... is... her bite like?"

Nan blinked, taken aback. And she realized then, she had underestimated Andy. "It was and is praise and hallelujah."

"And yours?" Andy's gaze sought hers. Nan's nostrils flared, and she took in the girl's scent despite herself. The delivery of the question had been that provocative.

It took more control than she would ever have expected to answer the girl, to say it in a way that could not be read as forceful rejection or denial of the attraction, which was suddenly, surprisingly bright. Nan forced herself to take Andy's hand, to grip it without being too tight, to hold it and retain the gaze that was pouring into her. "Not for you. Yet. I can not. It would... wound you."

"And her?"

"Is that why you are doing this?" Again, she worked to keep her voice from going hard, from challenging the girl, like she would have any other.

Andy inhaled and then bit her lower lip, not to the blood, but as an act of thought. Nan was aware of every nuance and every minuscule twitch and beat. The relief was a physical thing, when the writer finally shook her head in the negative.

The brunette leaned away then, turning more fully away from Nan. "Even if I thought it would, I'd never hurt her like that. Or you."

"I know." Nan reached for the retreating woman, brought her close. Andy wrapped her arms around her waist, clung lightly. "I want you to listen to me, very carefully. And to believe me."

"Nan..."

"Hush. You've had your say. My turn now."

She felt the girl nod, more than saw it.

"I am going to tell you something about vampires. Something that is not a secret and that I'm sure you have noticed, but because we are what we are, it can be easy for many to ignore or misunderstand. Vampires are not loners. We can be alone, but we are not meant to be. We form bonds, friendship, kinships."

"Family."

"Yes." Nan pressed Andy to her lightly. "Family. Our lovers, the ones where blood is tied, are family. Emily Charleton," she felt the brunette stiffen in her arms, but she did not pull away. "... is family. She is Miranda's Childe, and as such, she is well loved. She was chosen long before you arrived, because she has her own special characteristics and Miranda saw this. Emily never had a war to fight with you, Andy. She was already going to be what she was going to be. If she thought there was a battle for primacy or if you thought it, you were both mistaken."

"But..."

"It was not a competition. Well, not for Miranda. Perhaps it was for you, to see who might be the best assistant, but... that was all."

Andy was very still in her arms, very quiet, for long enough that she thought the girl might have fallen asleep. She was about to lay her down, when she spoke. "What's the missing piece, Nan?"

"You."

Andy laughed, but when she pulled away it was with the form of lethargy that spoke of weariness, of a day gone too long. "Somehow I doubt that. But thanks. And... I believe you. About Emily."

"I will take what victories I can." Nan pressed her lips to Andy's temple and slid away from the bed and her. Tomorrow would have other opportunities to right things further and she suspected Andy needed a little distance to let the new ideas sink in.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N -** To make up for the real random times these past few weeks and also to thank everyone for the very awesome reviews, I am submitting a new chapter, a bit early or late, depending on one's point of view. The point being: Extra chapter here. Enjoy! :)

 **TDWP: Enough Sunrises and Sunsets Pt. 7**

The plane ride seemed interminable. Even though Miranda knew better and that, really, it was essentially a case of hours, the closer they moved toward California, the more restless she became. She turned that energy, that compulsion to do "something," into work, a well practiced maneuver. Of course, if she worked, her minions, regardless of relation, worked. Runway staff mingled unknowingly with Otherworld staff, some of whom were both. It might annoy her that she needed protectors and sundry other officers befitting to her station, but she was used to it. It perhaps helped that she could, under most circumstances, leave them behind if she wished to; except when everyone was on a plane. That made just disappearing difficult.

It also made her feel growly. Which meant she verbally snipped and snapped at those who shared the first class space with her, spurring them on to better ideas, details, craftsmanship. They were, after all, there to work, and prepare.

SWAG was one of those upstart design and catwalk shows that sprung up every few years. She normally liked to wait at least five years before attending such events to see if they had staying power. Though sometimes she would make exceptions to the self-imposed rule. Two possible reasons she might do so would be if the designers truly were promising or if the popularity was worth investigating. SWAG was just in its fourth year, which meant it was at a cusp. It was named for the nickname of the popular grab bags handed out at the great after-event parties for other award shows and was started as a space for designers to show off their wares and lure stars, persons famous and persons of wealth to wear, buy or show their work; just like all the other shows.

Miranda's people had always spoken highly of it, which is why she chose, when she examined the invitations, to attend a few of its showings. Not all of them, as she had no interest in creating a hustle and bustle calendar this go around, but enough to make some editorial decisions and to sic her people on some of the latest designs while "hot off the design table." A good sampling would be enough to shut Irv up.

The second reason, was one she was trying not to think about at the moment, as she was already riled. Though, despite herself, she would sneak a peek at the site to see if an update had been made. Which, other than a brief message of, "Going surfing. Update soon," on the message board, there was nothing.

Miranda did not peek at the entry that had caused her inner furor in the first place. That would have been self-defeating.

Besides, she already knew that Nan would probably be there to greet her. She'd received a text message stating so just before they'd taken off.

So, no reason to get stirred up about anything except plans and preparations.

No reason at all.

\- TDWP -

It was a gorgeous day, warm with enough of an edge to a pulsating heat to make surf and shade appealing, but not so hot one just wanted to stay indoors. The waves were perfect for a beginner, not choppy, but smooth and depending on where one picked them up deep or shallow for the running.

Andy stood by her board, recently purchased and prepared under the careful tutelage of Sam, and listened as her vampire "cousin" gave her a review of what to expect and what the rules were. She and Sam both wore sunscreen and skimpy bathing suits, while the hulking bodyguards behind them wore black jeans and shirts and shoes and shades.

They weren't sweating, but Andy had already insisted that they put up a tall umbrella stand for them. It somehow did not make them seem any less sinister, but it did add amusement to Sam and Andy's day. Neither woman was oblivious to the looks they were getting from both men and women. They were especially not oblivious to the looks the guards were getting from both men and women. It was awesome.

The beach was very crowded, with sun seekers, swimmers and surfers. It was chosen because the surf was right, not because any of them had wanted to be at a particular public venue. Though, really, it was kind of refreshing. Andy had already eaten a frozen grape and lemon icee from one of the ubiquitous stands with great delight.

Both Sam and Andy carried waterproof cameras, strapped on at the wrist. They had been taking pictures liberally; recording them not for themselves, but for Nan and Dorene, who would want to see everything that they'd missed.

"Ready?" Sam asked finally, as they both checked everything one last time, including the bonds around their ankles that attached them to the boards.

Andy still wasn't quite sure if it was to make sure the boards didn't get loose or she didn't. Not that it stopped her from answering. "Totally. Let's do it."

Sam grinned at her then and at a pace that a human could keep up with, walked with the board to the waves.

\- TDWP -

Things kludged up after the landing as people on the plane prepared to debark and find their luggage. For some reason, random stalls to simply being able to exit and get on with life seemed to pop up. In this case, it had been an apparently important missing piece of carry-on luggage and no one had been allowed off the plane until it was found, not even her prestigious self.

What it meant in practical terms, was that Miranda left with her people; as a leader should. But also, that anyone waiting for her, had as long a wait as she did. It was guaranteed they were more patient about it than she.

\- TDWP -

Nan was not a pacer. She was one to settle beautifully, to lounge, perhaps to stroll if she must, but not to march back and forth like some wild thing.

Unless, it had to do with Miranda. Then...

She could count on one hand the number of times she'd found herself unable to settle due to something related to her friend. Three times it had been about things one might think of as reasonable; the birth of the twins and various dangerous happenings political and personal. In this case, dangerous meant life threatening. Miranda was very skilled at being at the top, but it did not mean that there were not those who vied for the position or who wanted to expand their territory. Normally it wasn't anything to worry about, but sometimes... things got scary.

She had anticipated a wait, of course, and had timed their arrival with due consideration for what she'd thought might be needed. But she realized, the longer it took, that Miranda had brought a full team.

Well. Naturally.

But she'd had, perhaps unreasonably, a hope that Miranda had keyed into a truth and had acted accordingly.

Now she had to take into account that perhaps, as unlikely as it seemed, Miranda was honestly... unaware. Or, so tangentially so, that... she was actually going to work.

It seemed impossible. Yet...

Well, her behaviors and choices were sometimes unpredictable. But Nan suddenly comprehended that she could not begin to guess what the Matriarch's choices would be now.

Thus, she paced, hoping to think her way through an introduction which now held an unexpected hazard.

When she stopped, it wasn't because Miranda had suddenly appeared. It was to stand in front of Dorene, who had been quietly and supportively watching the socialite's odd behavior. "I can't tell her who you are yet."

"I see." Dorene's expression was even, nearly serene. "And so, what are you going to do?"

"Well, I have to tell her who you are. She needs to know."

"Mmhmm."

"First name, only. I'm sorry, Dr. Sachs, but..."

"Nan?"

"Yes."

"We are friends, are we not?"

"Of course."

"Then first name is good with me. If she wants my last name, she'll ask, right? Just so long as you don't call me Dor. Or Rene. I'll be good." She leaned forward. "After all. I trust you. As you trust me." The professor lifted her fingertips and touched the point where the mark of Nan's bite had long since disappeared. But the motion of her hand displayed the mark that had appeared overnight, as her body had processed the change.

Nan stepped back and looked into the other woman's now amused gaze. "Oh. Right."

Dorene smiled then. "So then, the plan is?"

"I don't know yet. I was going to take her to lunch and explain about the marks, but... it depended on what she planned on doing, which I knew would involve a little work, but..."

"We play by ear then. No worries. Andy's out having fun. I'm looking forward to meeting her famous ex-boss. I'll keep my mouth shut until you tell me differently. It'll be fine."

Nan's smile was one filled with resignation and relief. "I surely hope so."

\- TDWP -

Andy was indeed having fun. She'd managed several belly, side and back flops, lots of splashing, some unbalanced steerage and finally, a smooth ride with both feet on the board that lasted about thirty seconds. The brief success had immediately prompted her to want more. Sam patiently went along with her enthusiasm, grinning right back as they sought the next small swell into shore. "This is amazing!" Andy had not quite shouted. Mostly she was talking loudly because of the distance. It was a form of habit, as she knew that Sam likely did not need her to speak loudly over the sound of waves and people to be heard.

But she did it anyway, because that was part of the fun.

Sam, who understood completely rejoined, "Yes it is!"

"If I lived here, I'd do it every day and probably get no writing done."

That had caused Sam to laugh, even as they both started prepping to stand on the board again. The water lifted, moving quickly and they righted themselves to it and let the wave carry them again.

When they got to the end of the swell, Andy's immediate take was one of childlike wonder. "Again! We've got to do that again!"

So they did.

\- TDWP -

Nan's greeting to Miranda held absolutely none of the worry that she'd revealed to Dorene. She had glided gracefully forward, opening her arms as one of the few who could, and actually laid her lips on her friend's cheek. "Miranda! It is very good to see you."

The editor's smile was spare, as the whole trip had been trying, but she was glad to see her friend. "You act as if we haven't seen each other in weeks."

"Days. Weeks. It always seems so long."

Miranda's grin widened, but her gaze narrowed slightly. It was tone more than anything, but other senses picked up on her friend's worry. "Flatterer." She pulled back and waved her minions to bring the baggage and themselves forward, but her keen gaze never left Nan and her nostrils flared.

Nan replied, accepting the distance as a necessary cover and somewhat grateful for it. She had bathed and dressed very carefully this morning. She did not want to smell too much like Andy, only enough to whet Miranda's curiosity, "Hardly. Tell me, did you leave room for me in your itinerary? I was hoping to take you to lunch." If they could get Miranda into the SUV, then she would probably know just how much contact Nan had with the younger woman. It was something the vampire had prepared for. She searched Miranda's expression for an acknowledgment and saw it diverted by the glance she was shooting toward Dorene whose blood scent held unique similarities to Andy's yet masked it at the same time. Nan reminded herself that Miranda had not scented Andy since she had gained the mark.

It would be a thread then, seeming to the vampire as if Nan had seen Andy from a distance, because it would have altered just enough from what Miranda knew... and Andy's blood... was battling itself.

Oh. She wouldn't know. Miranda would really think all Nan had to offer was a message.

Nan forced herself to keep her expression open and welcoming. Hopeful, like a best friend's wish to spend time with her friend, which she was.

"I'm afraid I don't have time, but perhaps dinner?" Miranda called one of her assistants over. "Will two hours be enough?"

"That's generous, but you may find that we fill it easily. I'd rather more, if you can. On the other hand..."

Miranda's hand settled on Nan's forearm. "I'll clear the evening. I'm sure you have things you want to..." Her eyes flicked a glance at the human woman who stood only a few feet away, "... discuss with me."

"Yes. I was thinking you would want a ride, but..."

"My assistants have seen to it, thank you."

"Well, I won't keep you then. Dorene and I will be on our way."

"Dorene?" Miranda glanced at the woman again, who gave her a half wave that was vaguely reminiscent of one she'd received some time ago. Only, it was without that smile. Dorene accompanied the wave with something more like a twitch of the lips. It was nothing at all like unto the one that Andrea had given her some years ago. Miranda filed it away in her thoughts as non-remarkable.

"A friend."

"Ah. A friend. Really, Nan. You pick them up all over the place." It was a tease.

"It's my charm. I did wish to introduce you to her..."

"Well, surely it can be done at dinner."

Nan blinked, because normally Miranda did not put her off. Then, because it might work better this way anyhow, she bowed. "I'll make sure your assistant has the address. It will be semi-informal. A cocktail dress, or shorts or slacks. Your choice. There's a pool if you're interested. I will inform Thomas, our host, that you will be arriving." She then, very briefly, sketched out Thomas' status as a lord with territory to Miranda and that she'd vetted him as worthy. She realized it was a risk, not fully informing her friend, but every indication was that Miranda did not care to be informed.

Which probably meant that she was actually wanting the exact opposite, but biding her time.

"I shall be pleased to attend. Thank you for understanding, Nan. I must get my staff settled now." This time it was Miranda who kissed Nan's cheek. She flicked a passing glance at Dorene and then she was off, stalking away like a lioness.

Dorene waited a few minutes as Miranda's followers hurried to catch up with their boss, moving with the sound of heels and wheels and busy chatter. Then she drawled, "Well, that was interesting."

"One way to put it," Nan replied and then, just because it fit the moment, she puffed some air up from her lips in frustration.

\- TDWP -

The hours seemed to fly away. The sun hit zenith and rolled back down the sky slowly, all without Andy really noticing. Until one moment she was fine and the next she was tired. Again, she'd probably pushed things a bit, but it was a good tired. Satisfying. And she'd gotten to ride a few bigger waves, which made her feel confident.

Sam's hug and resigned words of, "Last one," still hung with her and she'd taken to the water with a renewed burst of enthusiasm; temporary adrenaline, which she knew meant she'd probably sleep on the way home. But it would be with a smile on her face. She paddled out, not for the first time wishing the board had a mini motor attached to it to handle that chore; but it was its own measurement of ability too. And, despite her illness, Andy had always had a lot of endurance. That was one of the reasons she'd done so well at Runway and in her chosen profession in the first place.

She made a mental note of where she was in relation to everything, beach, bathers, other surfers. She waved at a couple who seemed a little close and then moved away out of courtesy, making sure to leave room so everyone could catch the next swell safely. She spotted Sam and waved to her too, smiling brightly.

Then, at the right time, feeling good about the choice to call it a day after this last beautiful ride, she stood up on her board; now an old hand at it. Her toes gripped and her body found its balance, as the water carried her and her board and she directed her motion with a much more practiced ease.

The swell of water which rolled over her head felt like a friend, a companion, which was only pushing her in the right direction. The speed was thrilling.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw someone closing in on her and thought, at first, it was Sam. Then she recognized it as one of the other surfers she'd moved away from. She didn't think anything of it really, except that she probably needed to navigate away.

She didn't have a chance.

The surfer knocked her board and she felt herself skidding off, turned to see him reach as if to grab her. And she was struck by how pale he was.

Then because neither were paying attention, the water struck and she fell off the board, tumbling hard into the deep.

She only caught her breath by accident, and then it wasn't much of one. The board yanked her about and there was a commotion. She saw a flash of silver, felt the taut line which connected her foot to her board disconnect and she felt a suction, a pull, as if the ocean were claiming her.

She struggled, just a for a moment, tried to right herself, to see the board. But she was already so tired.

Then, like an epiphany, she realized she didn't have to struggle any more.

Ah. This was it then. The moment she'd been dreading and fighting and hoping for.

Her breath left her body, as the instinct to breathe and the force of the water pushed the issue. She drew in a lungful of water and it hurt, but she wasn't afraid of it. Her body wrestled against the tide, but her mind did not.

She felt strong arms grab her, and powerful swift motion as she was dragged up and out and through the water.

She heard Sam calling her name, barely remembered retching and the expulsion of water from her body. Then she was cradled, warm to cool, held tightly and rocked as she wept.

\- TDWP -

Miranda arrived exactly on time, looking sharper than the diamonds that sparkled in her ears, on her neck and arm. The gems stood out against the black of the little black dress with its hemline decorously above the knee, but its collar, dangerously dropped into a revealing, cleavage filled "v". She glided on her shiny black heels with nary a clack at all, into the the foyer of the mansion. She respected the design, appreciated the colors, and was very glad that her friend was there, waiting. She'd half thought she might have the wrong address.

"Miranda!" Nan's greeting was much less formal, much more embracing. "Welcome. Thomas is on his way, but I wanted to take a moment to warn you, to ask you to ..."

Before Nan could say more, the person she'd been speaking of entered the room.

Miranda stepped away abruptly and, like someone throwing a switch, her features went cold and dangerous.

Thomas stopped exactly where he was, rooted, both by his sudden awareness of danger, and by the pressure of a Matriarch's presence. Even his guard, two steps behind, went into submission. Desire and fear blended with the need to bend and supplicate.

Even Nan, who could not begin to say she had an immunity, quivered under the compulsion.

One moment Thomas was on one side of the hall. The next, he was in Miranda's grasp. She held him by the neck, just a palm's touch, so it had all the appearance of gentle. He leaned into that touch, whimpered for it. Even as he knew how deadly and how quickly it could turn.

She bent forward, sniffing his neck. Her teeth were dangerously close. "Have you harmed my Andrea?"

His answer was instant, true. "No. Never."

"Yet... you have tasted her." The growl and force behind her words forced a bead of sweat upon his brow. Red trickled down his forehead, dribbled past his nose.

An expulsion of breath, the remnant needed to answer, escaped from him. He whined in her grasp, twisted to reveal his neck to her. Begged with his eyes.

Nan dared, though she had not felt this kind of fear around her friend in a very long time. But clarification had to happen fast and it needed to be enough. "Yes, he has, but it was Andy's gift to him. Her choice. Miranda." And now she touched Miranda's arm, though it made her quake to do so, "Andy is not thralled. They are friends and family of the heart. He stands as a guard to her. And to her born family."

"Guard?" Miranda heard everything, but she latched onto that one word. "Why does my Andrea need a guard?"

Another person spoke, a woman. Miranda's attention turned. Her blue eyes had gone a purple so deep it was near crimson, the color of blood. Dorene stood in the middle of one of the doorways, leaning against the frame for support. "Because she does. We all do. Please stop. Whatever you're doing. Stop. It's too much."

"And what is it to you?"

"She's my niece. And he's our cousin. Stop it."

Miranda growled, and then, because it was her right, her head snapped forward and her teeth dug into him. He screamed out. At first. Because it surely did not start out pleasant. But her bite changed as she tasted him.

Then his expression changed. His body flexed as pleasure ripped through him. He spoke, finally, a whisper and then a pledge, binding his family and his all to her in ancient word and oath. And she released his neck, but only bending his head forward, all with that delicate deadly pressure in her palm. She kissed him then, deep and owning. His mouth opened and she scored her tongue enough to let blood out.

Her grip changed then, and she held him by the back of his head as then she bit his tongue. He cried out, at first in natural instinctive struggle and then moaned in needful pleasure. He whispered, "Please..."

"You are mine now." She wouldn't have anyone guarding Andrea who wasn't hers.

"Yes," he hissed as his blood toiled and shifted. He buckled and spent, the orgasm ripping through him. She briefly held him to her, long enough to heal the bite on his tongue and then she tore her lips back down to the column of his neck and closed the wound there.

He leaned against her, still convulsing lightly. Her arm wrapped around him, this time protectively. Her own dark rage was … mostly... appeased. Enough so that she felt more amenable to the aunt's request.

Dorene sagged against the doorway as the compulsion waned; eased.

"I want," Miranda said very slowly, very clearly, "an explanation."

That was when the front door slammed open and they all heard, "I can walk. I'm just tired." Miranda's ears perked, twitched at the sound of Andrea's voice. She ached at the weariness held in the young woman's voice.

"No." Came the reply, a woman's voice. Miranda's eyes narrowed and she saw Nan through the corner of her eyes lift her hands as if in supplication, a plea for patience. She curled her lip dangerously. Heard the rest. "You mean you can stagger, and there is no way I'm going to let my Dad or your Aunts see you wobbling around. And, before you start up again, my friend, you're seeing Dr. Acheson. I already made the call."

"What? No. I just need a little rest," the young woman protested.

"You need a..." The bickering stopped as a blonde woman, who carried the brunette, came to a complete halt.

Both women's eyes went very wide.

Andy, feeling as if things were moving in slow, shocking motion, finally lifted her hand and made a tiny, now familiar, and obviously familial, wave. "Um. Obviously we're interrupting. Hi, everyone. Hi, Miranda. Um. Sam is going to take me to … to... "

Shock flipped the historian's mental catalogue off. "The medical thingy …"

Andy wasn't much better. "Yeah. There. Nice to see you, Miranda. Don't kill Tom. He's my friend. Sam…," the brunette said leadingly, cajolingly.

"Right. Heading out now. Dad?"

"He's fine." Nan said, suddenly wanting to move things along and she bustled forward, until she was nearly pushing Sam from behind. "You take Andy on to the doctor, I'm sure it will be just fine."

"What happened?!" Miranda snapped out, in that deadly sultry voice of hers and quiet and stillness descended.

Andy cleared her throat, which was still tender from all that water expulsion. But she managed a squeaked out, "Surfing accident. I'm okay. Really."

Sam rolled her eyes. "She nearly drowned," she corrected. Then, as if compelled by the sharpened gaze of the Matriarch, she added. "Someone tried to take her."

\- TDWP -


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N -** Just wanted to post a quick thank you to those who review. I don't always reply, because I'm not always up to it, but I do always appreciate them. Thank you.

 **TDWP: Enough Sunrises and Sunsets Pt. 8**

Always the peacemaker, Andy said, "No. The boards collided and I fell off. The guy on the other board reached to stop me, but I was down in the water too fast. My thingy broke and..."

"It was cut. I went after the one with the knife, while Cole and Daniel took care of the other one."

Andy's eyes went wide and her attention turned to her friend. "Knife!" Her gaze narrowed, though she couldn't recall any wincing, that didn't mean there hadn't been. "Did you get cut?"

"Yes, but I'm fine. It was nothing, Andy."

"Sam!"

"Nothing," repeated the blonde. "We heal fast. Don't worry about it."

"Then you definitely should not be carrying me. So help me, if I were stronger, I'd kick your …"

"Andrea." It was the tone of voice, the caress of her name, that caused Andy to pause in her diatribe. And to flush. Miranda continued, as if she hadn't just spun the brunette's world, "Let Sam finish. Though Sam can hardly be a fit name for..."

"It's Samantha," Andy deflated. "I call her Sam because..."

Miranda lifted a silencing finger, which halted the brunette mid-speech. Or maybe it was the way her eyes, now only striped with the crimson that once filled them, locked onto Andy's. For a moment, the brunette thought she spotted more amusement than irritation, but she was still absorbing the way the blue seemed even brighter, even more outstanding with those red highlights. "I did not ask for an explanation about it. Continue, Samantha."

Andy was nearly completely distracted, and because Miranda's attention was on the writer, Sam's gaze slid from the powerful vampire to her father. "Dad, I think they were Paul's."

That brought Miranda's attention back to her, but Sam was watching Tom. Her sire, who was still gathering himself, suddenly straightened. "What?" Of course, he'd heard her perfectly the first time. It was shock that lent power to the question **.** But then his expression turned very grim, very angry. It wasn't an expression that Andy was used to seeing on his face. "He wouldn't dare..."

"I know he was your friend once, but he's been angling for an expansion for years. Anyone could see it. First it was Terry ..." Tom visibly winced, but the recent changes in his life kept him from folding. Still, there was a grief in his gaze that deepened as soon as his lover... ex-lover... had been named.

Andy's eyes widened, as she recognized the sadness, if not the name. That had to have been Tom's beloved.

Sam continued inexorably, "He wants what you have. Like he always has. You remember how he stole Terry from you, getting our grandsire to practically order it done. All for the nominal sake of a stronger fiscal foothold and 'alliance,'" Sam hissed that last word disparagingly. "He wouldn't pass up a chance like this. You know Connie's coming tonight right? So Dr. Acheson can concoct that serum. That makes all three under one roof, Dad. Of course he was going to try. He'd justify it by saying you wouldn't miss one and that it would keep the balance."

"I thought," Dorene said slowly, "that we have free passage. Could go anywhere we want. I recall asking about this very thing."

"Of course you can. But it's complicated. And..."

"Samantha," Miranda interjected smoothly and a little too calmly. "Three of what?"

If it were possible for eyes to go wider...

Nan cleared her throat and stepped forward, in front of Andy, but not enough to obscure either the Matriarch's view nor the younger woman's. "Yes. About that. You recall I wanted to speak to you..."

"Nan." Miranda said, then more gently that she would have for any other, except, perhaps for her twins, "Get on with it."

"Right." Nan turned. "Dorene, if you would please." The socialite extended a hand and the professor marched toward her, until she was also in front of Andy, not blocking the view, but now that there were two of them, symbolically in guard positions, Miranda's eyes had begun to narrow and her expression tighten.

Dorene pulled a packet out of her jean pocket, one that had been tucked there for the purpose. She looked at Nan as she tore the packet open and another person might have taken it for a dare. Nan just accepted the now open packet, drew out the wipe and carefully took Dorene's hand.

Then, eyes on Dorene, she massaged the webbing between thumb and index finger on the professor's right hand, until the mark was revealed.

Nan smiled ruefully as she finally returned her attention to her friend, gently drawing Dorene forward with her. She lifted the hand, revealing the mark fully for the Matriarch's view.

Miranda's gaze slid down. It was only years and years and years of experience which kept her expression from morphing into outright shock. "The Branch?"

"Yes. Part of a triumvirate."

Miranda nearly sucked in an unneeded breath. "All three? Now?"

"Yes, and all from one family."

"A full bloodline?" This time a new emotion tinged Miranda's expression. Awe.

Tom spoke, "And all under the care of my...Your House, Matriarch."

Miranda's turning was so instant it wasn't even really visible. One moment she was in front of Nan and Dorene, the next she was back at Tom's side and glaring him down, hand on his wrist. "Willingly, Matriarch. They all were willing."

"Except for Connie. At first. He tells us the group that had him had a difficult time letting him go. But... he came home and we kept him safe." Dorene's tone was challenging, proud. Nan's expression became thoughtful and then respectful as she realized what bravery the other woman had shown; and how much love she had for her niece.

Miranda asked, gentling her grip on her new son's arm, but she did not let go. "Did they come after him?"

"We dusted the whole group. They didn't bother him after that. They might have turned him, but he's ours."

"Did he tell you the line of the one who kept him?" A dangerous thrum in her tone pushed for an answer.

Dorene blinked and spread her legs in a naturally defensive posture. Nan still had one hand in hers, but the other, fisted tightly.

The socialite applied a reassuring pressure to her grip and leaned and whispered. "She will avenge. You may trust her with this."

"We did our own revenging." Dorene replied equally sotto, but her voice lifted, knowing that Miranda likely had heard anyhow, "But if you have to know. They called themselves Morvant."

Miranda's growl could be felt through the house. "I see." She turned her attention to Tom, "I suppose it would be too much if Paul were Morvant."

Tom shook his head in the negative. "We don't have many in California. He's Tosri."

"You are now Prestre."

"Yes." His eyes hungered for her and she kissed him, softened the touch before releasing him. "See that your bloodline is cleansed."

"Yes. I will."

She flicked a glance at the blonde, whose spine stiffened under her gaze and whose grasp on the brunette tightened carefully. "Samantha first."

"Of course, Matriarch."

"What is this..." Andy tried to straighten, "Dang it, Sam, put me down."

"No."

"I won't wobble if I'm leaning against you."

"Still no."

Andy grimaced and then tossed out, "What the heck is this cleansing thing? There's nothing wrong with Sam and Tom."

"It's okay, Andy," Sam replied. Her eyes on her sire. "The bloodline has changed. Miranda's blood was stronger and her claim is prime. No one in our House can remain part of the other and stay. By right as sire, Dad will call his line to him and he'll offer a taste..." Sam's eyes lit with a warm, bright hunger and her teeth drew down. She licked them unselfconsciously, slightly erotically. "And if the blood is true, we will all take on her mantle. We will all be hers."

Miranda's attention turned to Dorene, "Connie will be Prestre. He will become a son to Thomas and always have a place in our home. The line is true and ancient. Very strong. Nan can attest. And now Thomas can as well."

"Does he have a choice?" Doreen demanded, not intimidated in the least bit of the seemingly all-powerful woman.

Miranda's nostrils flared at the challenge and she offered her teeth in a kind of grin. "Of course. But he will choose us."

For a moment Andy's heart beat so loud she thought she could hear it all over. A memory, slotted for retrieval only on her worst days, suddenly rose to the surface. In her mind's eye, she saw Miranda turning, putting on the shades she always wore in the daylight. "Everyone wants to be us.

Her "oh," was barely audible, barely discernible.

But when she looked up, Miranda was steadily gazing at her, her eyes finally a clear blue that reminded Andy of the skies. "Sam," she said, needing to recline more than she'd been admitting. "I think you better get me to the medical center. I want to lay down."

"Sure, Andy. Matriarch?"

Miranda understood that things were not being said and not all things were revealed, but she was very aware that Andrea was not faking her tiredness. Pieces of the puzzle had come together and formed a raw place in her. "You may go."

"Sure, wait for her permission. I'm the one who asked..." Andy began as Sam immediately moved. She was down the hall almost before the first word was spoken.

"Andrea," Miranda's voice soothed, even at a distance. "Don't argue."

When they were out of sight and the writer's range of hearing, "This serum..."

"... is for Andy," Dorene said clearly. "She's not been doing so well. Dr. Acheson says it's her blood."

"She refuses to be turned," Tom added. "She contracted with me. I should have realized..." He laughed softly. "She knows just enough to be dangerous and smart about it."

"I see," Miranda said. "Will the serum work?"

Dorene ran her hand through her hair and looked at Nan and then at Miranda. "It's gotta be tried. And I wish she'd take her pain medication."

"She hasn't been?"

"Hates being muddled. Would rather suffer."

"Not suffer," Nan said. "She's very strong. She'd just rather not... miss anything unnecessarily."

"And she went surfing?" Miranda said in disbelief.

"And skydiving." Dorene supplied.

"And mountain climbing." Nan added.

"And radically gambling." Dorene stated

"Oh, you knew about that?" Nan asked Dorene.

"Well, she told me after I asked how she was paying for the bodyguards in Cincinnati. You know, she was trying to lose all of it. She was so mad at winning that she actually threw a television out the hotel window. They didn't even make her pay for it."

"Well, she shouldn't be paying for the bodyguards, I am," Tom interjected. "Or rather, they are my people. No payment involved."

"Unless she arranged something on her own. Trust me, she's more than capable of finding the best when she wants to. She's a very resourceful gal." Dorene reminded Tom. And Miranda.

"Wait." Miranda snapped out. "Why are there bodyguards in Cincinnati?"

"That's where her family is. Melinda, Dr. Acheson's assistant, has started testing them. He was going to go down there, but Connie offered to come up here. So he's …"

"Spare me the details. Give me the pertinent information."

"The bloodline is being confirmed. There is a possibility that there are more than the primary three."

 _Unheard of_. Miranda extended her hand. "Someone give me a phone. I have calls to make."

Fortunately for Tom's normal crowd, he'd had the foresight once Nan had informed him of Miranda's choice to attend dinner, to make sure that everyone was out of the pool, so to speak. The only people in his mansion were his.

Now hers.

He was acclimating quickly to the thought and, truthfully, if it had been any other Matriarch or Patriarch he might have fought harder, but...

Oh, she was overwhelming. Amazing.

He was very aware of what Andy saw in her. And very aware that Andy was most definitely hers, though perhaps they neither quite knew the how of it.

He suddenly understood Nan's presence and her subtle, but entertaining questing ways. If anyone could help them see the truth...

His mind turned to the Dinner, which they were supposed to be having. "Miranda, with your permission..."

The Matriarch was on the phone and waved a hand at him in dismissal. He didn't take it personally. She had more resources than he did and the fact that she was putting things into motion warned him that this was not a woman to underestimate.

It was only after he'd spoken to William that his change in status fully penetrated. He was a direct son of a Matriarch.

He had to sit down then as a swirl of emotions overtook him. Then he fished out his own phone. It was time to make arrangements of his own for tomorrow.

The original dining space was going to be one of those long affairs, which allowed for ten or twelve or fourteen people, depending. But as Miranda had not brought staff and as Andy was in the infirmary and as really, the only person who needed to eat was Dorene, they had switched rooms.

Not that the vampires let Dorene eat alone, nor did they let her feel unwelcome. But, with the absence of Andy, the professor was a little more aware that she was the one who ran warmest. However, aside from Miranda, whom she still felt was a dangerous and unknown quantity, she knew she was among friends.

She glanced at Nan, who graced her with a smile as warm as she'd ever seen. It took her breath away, for a few moments, but then the socialite began to talk. "Miranda, how are Cassidy and Caroline? I haven't had a chance to ask."

"Well, their father has decided, since I am in California, that it might be fun for them to take in amusement parks. Not here, but there. Apparently someplace called Six Flags."

"Oh. I know that one. Yeah those are fun." Dorene said without even worrying about interrupting. "They have themes, but it's not as overpowering as Disney. However, the rides still thrill." Then she had a thought. "Wait a minute. How old are..."

Nan replied, before anyone could take anything amiss, "Caroline and Cassidy are fourteen."

"But... how..."

"Children of the Body are extremely rare, but possible for Matriarchs and Patriarchs. It seems that their father and I had a physical compatibility, though our other ties were much less so." Miranda said this and then took a sip of wine.

"So. I'm sorry, I know this is rude, but I've never heard of this and all of it... is so new, but... they're just ordinary kids then?"

Miranda sniffed, but her eyes held pride, "There is nothing ordinary about them at all. They are excessively bright, precocious and quite able to scare their parents with their more daring choices."

Now it was Dorene's eyes that twinkled. "So, they're a little like Andy then."

"Andy?"

"Oh, she was a trip growing up. You ought to get her parents to tell you some of the stories. Like, about the time Andy leapt from the barn window with a blanket as her sole means of slowing down. Well, that and a pile of hay at the bottom, fortunately for all. Or the time she decided to see if red really did cause a bull to run at a person. She'd used all her red markers to color the linen tablecloth she cut up and hung on a broken tree limb, like a flag. Fortunately, she was a fast little thing and smart enough to throw the flag away from herself when the going got exciting. She was a good girl, but prone to adventure and brilliance."

"This is Andrea we are speaking of? It just seems as if she were more … docile..."

At that Dorene started to giggle. She dropped her fork and it rang against her plate. By the time they were looking at her, she'd moved into a full chortle. When she saw them looking at her, realized they were staring, she started to outright guffaw. "Docile!" she exclaimed. "Andy? Docile?" She laughed until she had her arms wrapped around her belly and her eyes were moist. And she tried to apologize. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm just having difficulty picturing it. No wonder...No wonder her parents... Oh my goodness." She started to fan herself, her chest heaving with the emotion and the amusement.

Miranda was not one to gape, and so she did not stare at Dorene, who strove to put herself together after that bout of mirth. Nor did she hold the amusement against her, as it was a telling moment, one that was honest in its eruption. But she was taken aback, enough so that she began to think about her conclusions regarding the writer; which had been built as the young woman had striven to accommodate herself to a world she did not understand.

She recalled the things that had sparked her interest in the first place. The change in Andrea's wardrobe was a given, but it was the fire in her eyes, when she'd delivered the Harry Potter book, against all odds and took the assignment to the next level. That had set something alight in Miranda. It had also shown, yes, that the girl had spunk. And she'd proven it again, as she'd begun cleverly delivering each new assignment; sometimes very exactly or sometimes above and beyond. Then there was the passion heaving in her when she'd arrived at her door, knocking a demand for entrance, and smelling of sex and Paris, all because she'd wanted to warn Miranda ...

Could the girl leap tall buildings?

Apparently she had been trying to all her life.

And this was the piece that Miranda had not understood, had not seen about the girl; only sensed. It was as if Andy had cast a glamour upon herself, so that those who did not know her would be blind to the truth of her brightness.

Or too busy and caught up in their own dealings to really notice.

Miranda's smile was cool, but did hold a genuine sense of amusement to it. "No need to apologize. Apparently she was very careful in what she revealed at work. It is the sign of a person who understands the need for a professional side, aside from that abysmal failure at the end."

"Yeah. She told us about that. Regretted it. I know. But I bet now her leaving makes sense in context. She doesn't do things by halves. She'd have made a great lawyer if she'd wanted to. But while she could tell you law forward and back, she found the legal system a little boring. She'd have been a Judge Harry kind of gal, if she'd gone that route."

"Judge Harry?"

"Oh. He's a bit notorious where we come from. Tends to do magic tricks in the courtroom and offer "alternative" sentences. He's not easy, mind you, but he's definitely quirky."

"I see."

Dorene smiled then, lifted her own wine glass in a silent toast and then sipped, her eyes still sparkling with amusement.

\- TDWP -

Miranda wanted to see the infirmary. She was not in the least surprised to find that the vampire had one, as even she had one in a safe location at home. If one played with blood, one spilled it in other ways often enough.

Nan was her guide, as Dorene had begged off to get ready to go fetch the young vampire cousin and Thomas and Samantha needed some quality time. The Matriarch had no doubt that the blonde would blood true, so she was not worried about her. She was worried about the unknown quantity, that which afflicted Andrea.

They were met in the waiting room by Dr. Acheson.

Nan asked for them both, "How is she?"

"At rest. Sleeping. She will recover."

"Any news from Melinda?"

"Not anything affirmative yet. They have been very cooperative, which is fortunate."

"Not a surprise, however."

"No. I suppose not." The doctor turned his attention to Miranda. "Matriarch. Your call is terrifying and potent. How may I serve?"

Miranda decided she liked this doctor. He didn't waste time.

"I wish to see her."

"Ah, but you are not seeking my permission; only a standard of time. Yes? I do not know if she will wake, but please, keep it short. Fifteen minutes at most. This was a most strenuous day for her."

"Thank you."

"My blood is yours at any time. I will return home. I do not expect a crisis. My other assistant is with her now, to watch over her while in this facility. I have informed Thomas of this and he has said he will see to Andy's return to her room. I believe she would prefer to wake there."

"It will be taken care of, yes." Nan confirmed.

"Excellent." Then, without further ado, he bowed to them both and exited the premises.

Nan waited outside with the assistant, who like Melinda, was astonishingly beautiful. It was no hardship, but oddly, she found herself less interested than usual.

Miranda, meanwhile, stood silently at the side of the bed, one hand wrapped around the cool safety bar, watching the young woman sleep. She had yet to touch Andrea. Their relationship before had been formal, predicated on the understanding that one did not touch very much on the job. But she yearned to reach out, to brush away the bangs which drooped and covered part of the girl's face, to thread her fingers through her hair, which Miranda understood now, had not been cut, but rather, regrown.

"Andrea." The name was a whisper on her lips, but she watched as the girl stirred in response. And drew in a breath as she saw markers of arousal, a flush to the skin, the rise of nipples. It was not an axiom that a name said would cause such a reaction; there had to be a base need to begin with.

Miranda leaned forward, intending... she wasn't sure what, but she scented along Andrea's neck, tasting the hint of her flavor in the air, the tang that was the writer. She spoke into the girl's ear, a seductive, siren call.

Andrea's breath caught and then she shivered, not in fear, but in physical reaction. "Miranda," she exhaled, her voice low and sweet; asleep.

Miranda was not prepared for the potency of the draw, the desire to answer and claim was suddenly strong and deep. She hovered her fingertips over the girl's pulse, feeling the heat, wanting it. Wanting her.

Her hand was grasped, not hard, but strongly. And it was pulled, drawing her closer, a little uncomfortably so, until her palm rested over the brunette's heart. The beat there summoned her blood, pushed her own pulse; made her ache with need from tooth to center.

Her teeth unsheathed in response to her abrupt arousal.

It took everything she had to pull away, to gently extricate herself from that tender sleeping grasp. And it was then she spotted the mark, the flying snake, alight on the fruited tree. The puzzle snapped together, locking firmly in place. She looked for Andrea's other hand. It was under the covers.

Greatly daring, she reached, intending only to move the sheet, but again her hand was grasped; as if Andrea could not resist the need to touch her, to hold to her.

So Miranda took advantage, seeing no reason not to, and lifted the hand that clasped hers.

Oh.

It wasn't even a whisper of air, but the mark of the golden apple seemed to glow to her eyes; to pulse a light in time with Andrea's heartbeat, as if it wanted her to take a bite.

Oh.

She used her other hand to pry open the girl's suddenly strong grip, but did so as gently as she could. Andrea's eyes were still closed. Her breath that of the sleeper.

"Don't leave," Andy whispered, her voice an ache. "Don't let me go again."

Miranda didn't dare make that promise, not for either case. The silver-haired woman drew her fingertips along the girl's temple down the side of her face, however, needing the touch as much as wanting it. "Rest, Andrea. Tomorrow comes all too soon."

She waited, until the girl returned to her deeper slumber. Then, while she was able and before the temptation to take the girl into her arms and to her room to claim her took over, she stepped away and out.

\- TDWP -


	9. Chapter 9

**TDWP: Enough Sunrises and Sunsets Pt. 9**

Andy, who almost thought she'd dreamed of Miranda as a very scary, yet incredibly sexy 'boy-I-want-her' vampire, was up in time for breakfast. She ached in places she did not know she had, felt stretched, from both the exercise of the adventure and from the memory of what had come afterward. She rolled out of bed. Slowly. Her eyes took in the normalcy of the room, how everything seemed to be where it should be, yet at the same time she felt …

Well, off wasn't the right word. In fact in some ways, from a certain perspective, she actually felt less off than she had in... days and months and years.

She glanced at her night stand. Two oval pills, on a piece of paper. On the paper was written a command, "Pain relievers. Take them. Do not disappoint me."

It was enough to set her trembling, because she recognized the handwriting; and the terseness.

It also made her smile.

\- TDWP -

Things had changed while she slept. Not all of it was visually apparent, but she could feel the shift anyhow. The house seemed, impossibly, more vibrant somehow; as if, just by Miranda's mere presence the night before, everything had become energized. Certainly, Andy perceived there were more people, not stars, but as in Tom's people and others, in the house; some of them wandered about with a profound and glazed look to their eyes, while others appeared to be waiting in line. At least there was enough seating.

It was a bit different though, because those who were waiting looked at her a bit like she was lunch. Or rather breakfast.

It was disconcerting. Because pretty much the whole time she'd been in Tom's company, she'd never had the sense of vampires acting as predators toward her.

Before she could feel too weird about it, she was found and rescued.

"Andy! How are you feeling?"

"Achy, but alright, Nan." She accepted the hug, squeezed tightly and smiled. "Who are all these people?" She ran her thumb in the general direction of the line.

Nan's answering grin was much toothier than she was used to, as was her answer, "Dead if they don't put their eyes back in their heads and cut the intimidating crap." She growled out, her attention outward. "This is Andrea. She is Asclepius and the Matriarch's... guest."

The change in the atmosphere was palpable, like the shift in tension after rain. "Whoa."

"Indeed. Ignore the dominance games, darling. You and I know who is top dog and it's not these children. Come along." They started walking in the direction of the dining hall, with the socialite's arm looped through Andy's. Nan spoke, "I meant to have someone there to walk with you when you awakened. I do apologize. It's been a busy night."

"So it seems. Is Tom alright? Sam?"

Nan's smile was almost as good as her hug, "They are fine, darling. Better than fine. Your cousin arrived safely. He was offered the opportunity to transition early, so I'm afraid you missed that part. He's resting for the moment."

Andy couldn't help herself, "And recuperating? Sorry, it's a joke between Tom and I."

"I understand. Yes. He is recuperating. A cleansing of the blood can be exhilarating, but it's taxing."

"Well, that actually makes sense to me." She had come to understand quite intimately how blood run amok could tax a person. "Oh, I smell eggs, pancakes and bacon."

"We thought the morning could do with something a little more substantive than a danish and coffee."

"You were right." Andy said, even as her stomach growled for food. She leaned close, "And Miranda... she was... I didn't imagine..."

"She was here and she stayed awhile, but she had to go. She did come ostensibly to work."

"Ah. Yeah. Think we could get in? To SWAG, I mean? You, me, Dorene, Connie and Sam?"

Nan flashed a grin. "I like the way you think. Have I mentioned that? I think things could be arranged, yes." Then she waved out at the table, where a breakfast banquet was set. "Now. Go. Eat, while I go threaten the savages again."

Andy grasped her by the forearm, "Nan, are you alright?"

"Of course I am. I am merely playing my role as Miranda's second this morning. It's all well."

\- TDWP -

It was a work of perhaps ten minutes to procure five full ride passes, given the minions and childer who were present in Tom's abode. All she had to do was mention the idea to Sam who immediately took charge and "procured" the wanted items. Sometimes it was very good to be on top of the blood-chain.

It wasn't just Tom's people in the mansion either. The presence of the Matriarch, and the call of her blood was like a beacon to those who were already of Prestre; especially as the gathering changed and transitioned and the power "leaked" to the outside world. They came, either summoned by one of Miranda's phone calls, or by picking up on the shift in the power dynamics.

Nan was quite serious when she said she was busy being Miranda's second. It was not, at this particular moment, a set of duties she could shift until a worthy Childe or two arrived to assist. And even then, as power coalesced and the territory expanded exponentially, there would be challenges.

She was aware that Tom had already invited Paul and sundry other Tosri to dinner that evening. She was girding her loins for the inevitable excitement. She had no doubt Miranda also knew of Tom's plans and would find occasion to be at his dinner table, again.

Speaking of excitement, she heard a commotion in the distance, which started out, "Are you lost? Shall I show you the way?"

It sounded innocuous enough, when phrased that way, but the words were hungry and trembled with a longing for blood.

A new childe then, perhaps even just a minion hoping to raise themselves. They so often lacked subtlety.

"Whelp," said a voice that Nan had grown far too accustomed to, "You best watch your back. Wood in a bullet is just as effective as a stake, and I took state championship five years in a row. National two. I can take you out faster than you can …"

A rushing sound all but echoed as Nan flashed toward the room, but even as she hastened she heard the sound of something being broken, of flesh meeting flesh, of a cry of pain and then she was there; just in time to watch as Dorene thrust powerfully at the vampire's chest.

"What? No!" He looked down, aghast at the broken shard of wood, a remnant of a chair, that was plunged into his heart. Then it was a flash of fire and ashes and the smoke leftover.

Dorene looked around at those who, apparently, had decided to watch the outcome rather than join in, cautious in the face of being in their Liege's house. Wisely so. "Yeah. You didn't want him anyway. Too dumb to pound sand."

Nan's nostrils flared and she was beside the professor, holding her by the forearms and looking at the gouge in one arm; apparently the one she'd used to break the chair. Blood pooled in a long, thick, dripping line. It was agonizingly compelling. "You're hurt."

Dorene's eyes were not amused, but she was apparently still willing to tease. "Want to kiss it and make it better?"

"Dorene..."

"I thought these kids had been informed..." Some of the vampires watching shifted on their feet and stared at Dorene oddly, as they had long ago passed the kid stage. Others were still staring at the pile of dust or salivating, because of the copper tang and the essence of her particular mix, that which made her Asclepius, was very potent.

Nan wanted to lift her, carry her away. To do more than just cajole her to getting her arm looked at... "They have been, but we've had so many come in so quickly. I'm not sure everyone is getting the word. Dorene, this needs seeing to..."

"So, lick it. Fix it. Might as well not let it go to waste. I'm apparently not using it anymore."

"You are maddening. I'm taking you to the …"

"Nan, don't waste my time. I don't make this offer to just any vampire you know."

Nan actually caught her breath. In fact, many in the room did. She grimaced then, not a smile and said, "Fine."

She let her grip tighten, but Dorene didn't flinch. In fact she watched her, eyes bright with a dare in them. Nan lifted Dorene's arm then, and because she could, extended her tongue. She slid it from pulse point, to the jagged line that ran down to the fold of the arm. She had intended to resist, but as soon as the blood hit, she found herself closing her eyes, humming against Dorene's skin and the lick became more intimate, a tonguing kiss, one that slid until her lips were pressed to the tender erogenous zone.

She knew she "won" when Dorene gasped and she felt a certain kind of heat rise from her body, but suddenly the winning didn't matter. She pulled back, feeling more flush than she really ought to. "It might have helped if you'd leave your marks visible, in house."

"They should know better than to hassle guests in the house. It shows lack of respect for the …"

"Liege."

"I was thinking of Miranda."

"Matriarch."

"Yes." Dorene's eyes flicked to the watching vampires. She pointed at one and as she spoke, another and then another, making sure to make eye contact as she did so. "So let's get this straight. I'm Aunt Dorene. What this means to you is, I may be human, but I'm higher up the chain than you. Get over it and get a hold of yourselves. From what I know of the Matriarch, she won't play with people who can't control themselves around guests in her house. And she'll do worse than this," she pointed at the dust on the ground, "... to you if you let anything, and I do mean anything, happen to one of us. It shouldn't matter if they have a mark or not. What matters is that if they're in the house, they're not meat, they're not lunch, and they for damn sure aren't yours."

"Maybe I should just let you do the indoctrination." Nan said bemusedly.

Dorene's gaze was hard, right until she met Nan's eyes, then they softened. A little. Nan was reminded that this woman had just destroyed a vampire. She was no weakling. "Maybe you should. I've been running roughshod over rambunctious hellions for years. Believe me, these ain't nothing compared to Andy and her group of misfits when they get to the real plotting."

Nan's grin was immediate. "Well there's that. We could call it Vampire Manners 101."

Despite herself, Dorene laughed.

\- TDWP -

Apparently object lessons worked very well with vampires. When the Runway employees started arriving, just before noon, with their baggage in tow, not a single one of the humans were hassled or made to feel uncomfortable. In fact, their greeters were downright solicitous.

It was Miranda's thought that, aside from consolidating her base, it would absolutely thrill Irv's greedy heart that Runway employees now had a "permanent" place to stay; so long as she was in power, of course. Most of the employees were even excited at the prospect of staying at a mansion, guest of the producer who now found himself at the center of Miranda's world. It was even better, when they realized that some of the stars they saw at the opening SWAG ceremonies were also making their way to the mansion.

The guest rooms filled up quickly, but even then there were still plenty of rooms left. Some of those were snagged for the purposes of Runway. The staff were ecstatic to have places to store materials and media that weren't rooms that they had to sleep in. And, somehow, the miracle worker that was William, managed to make office spaces for them.

Andy, who was watching the hubbub from a safe location in the nominally quiet atmosphere of the library, said to her cousin, Connie, who had joined her on the couch, "You know, I think he might actually be bi-locating."

Connie grinned his perfect smile and nodded. He had always been a good looking young man, with short-cropped reddish brown hair, a straight nose and hazel eyes. His shoulders were broad, his hips slim. He was muscular without being bulky, having built his frame by lifting hay bales and eating the meals his mother set before him, rather than drinking protein shakes and weight lifting; though it was his brain, a shared family brilliance, which had been the agent of his escape. As a vampire, he was gorgeous.

As Morvant Asclepius, a many, many, many times great grandson to a Patriarch he'd never met and would likely never have met, as the clan "father" had no intention of revealing that he had an Asclepius in his hold, he had the power his blood gave him, which as a vampire wasn't much. He had to grow into it. A vampire grew stronger, and his blood grew more potent, with age and the closer to the source, the more powerful the start. As Prestre Asclepius, a grandson, he was maturing quickly, compellingly charming, and was also much more dangerous.

Except to Andy, who only saw him as her cousin, just with sharper teeth. So, as with Tom, she had absolutely no compunction about leaning against him. Nor did she need to fear him. Though he was young, he had quickly learned control and his family, Sachs (and now Prestre) was his pride and he loved them; perhaps even more so now than he had before he'd been turned. They had, after all, accepted him and come to his aid when he most needed them. He could only do the same for them. He held his ailing cousin with a gentle arm around her waist as they caught up with one another, speaking in low tones about the more recent events in their lives as they watched the hustle and bustle together.

One of those rushing persons passed by and did a double take, coming back and then through the wide-open double doors that led to the library.

"Six?"

Andrea sat up, not quite breaking away from her cousin, whose hold had been loose to begin with. "Nigel?" she queried in astonishment.

"Six! It is you! I thought I recognized your name being bandied about." Nigel, dressed to the nines and looking very upper-professional, sans tie, swept into the library.

Andy stood, opening her arms, fundamentally glad to see her friend. "You look fabulous!"

"I know. Here for the SWAG. Have to look good." He buffed his nails on his collar, offering a charming, sly grin and then he moved forward and took her in his arms.

She heard it, a sound she was kind of getting used to. "You're doing that sniffing thing, aren't you?"

He was taken aback, a touch sheepish, and tried to pull from the hug. She did not let go.

"It's okay. I get it. Connie does it too."

"Connie?"

She let him go then, a comfortable slide instead of the abruptness it would have been. "Right. Nigel Kipling, this is my cousin, Connie Quentin Sachs."

Connie stood up easily. "Hello..."

Nigel extended his hand. "Just call me Nigel. Good to meet you, Connie. Say, have you heard of this Aunt Dorene person? They say she's Miranda's new enforcer."

"Aunt Dorene?" Connie said, before sliding his eyes to Andy, who mostly was managing to appear astonished. "Enforcer?"

"Actually," Andy grimaced, finally, "I can kinda see it. You remember the time she caught us taking the wheels off of the riding lawn mowers ..."

"It's not like anyone was using theirs at the time. We would have put them back," Connie griped in remembrance. "All that grass we had to mow."

"All four of us. For free. And we hadn't even planned anything all that bad."

"Not that she believed us. Nearly all June and part of July. Thank god she relented when it really got hot." The cousins looked at each other with grim, but fond affection. "You really should call Lily. And Doug. They miss you," Connie said gently. "Everyone has missed you."

"She didn't believe us because you're too damn good a liar, Connie." Andy retorted. Then she said, "I wouldn't know what to say. I couldn't tell them. I still..." She, Lily and Doug had overcome their differences while Andy had worked at the Mirror. Really they hadn't been all that bad. Hurtful things had been said, but honestly, a lifetime of friendship held true. And then... things had gone south for the writer and she simply hadn't known how to share the bad news and was too wounded by it to do anything but leave.

Nigel couldn't help but grin as he listened to the conversation ping-pong between subjects.

"She should have believed you, at least. You can't lie to save somebody else's life, much less your own." Connie groused. "Don't tell them. Just have them come up. They'd love the chaos. You know it. I know it. And the fact that you somehow managed to get adopted into a vampire clan will amuse Lily to absolutely no end."

"So Aunt Dorene is real and not a boogie-woman invented to scare young vampires." Nigel cut in before the conversation deteriorated again.

"Oh. She's real alright." Andy said with one of those bright grins that so endeared her to him in the first place, no matter how much he denied it. That much happiness had to be contagious, or something. He usually hated people like that. "And she's around somewhere. Probably hanging out with Aunt Nan."

After a thoughtful pause, Nigel carefully inquired, "Andy, are you calling Lady Nan Whitmore, Aunt Nan?"

"Ayup. That's the one. It's been a strange set of days, Nigel."

Nigel stepped back, without quite leaving Andy's embrace and really looked at her. His smile was somber, but he reached forward and brushed some ragged hair out of her eyes. "You need a cut and style. Emily will be arriving with Serena in tow at some point. I'll have them find you. Call your friends," he ordered gently.

The way he said it was so familiar, a subtle command filtered in amused affection, that the only answer she could give was, "Okay."

"I feel it's only fair to warn you, Andy. You do know what's going to happen? As soon as you call and you tell Lily what you've been doing..." Connie asked.

Andy stared blankly at her cousin for half a beat and then groaned.

"Oh yeah. She's gonna demand at least a few retries." He patted her on the back, "Don't worry. I don't think you'll have to worry about mountain climbing. And I'll be right there, safely on the ground, while you fall umpteen zillion feet from a plane in the air. Cheering you on. It'll be great."

Andy looked briefly hopeful. "You think she'd settle for para-sailing? I think if I ask real nicely, Sam might let me near the water again." Not that she needed Sam's permission, but her friend had been distraught.

Connie just grinned and Nigel thought that might be a good time to make his exit.

The calls to Lily and Doug had gone better than Andy had any right to expect, but they were remarkably forgiving and also apparently totally devious. Her friends hadn't waited for her call to find out what was happening. They'd been in contact with her parents, but respectful of her distance. So, every story, they heard maybe third or fourth hand, but they always knew she was alive. At least until she stopped calling her parents. They then, just assumed she was, until they heard otherwise. After all, they knew her mom and dad...

She was fatigued though, by the end of the conversation and by all the activity around her. Among other things. Her body still ached, even with the pain relievers she'd taken and those had been a while back. While intending to go get ready for a mid-afternoon session of SWAG, she'd fallen into one of those deep snoozes on the couch. She'd turned onto her hip, curling her legs up, and facing toward the back of the sofa. Someone, not her, had put a blanket over her.

She stirred when she felt the pressure of someone sitting beside her, at the curve of her knees and very lightly. She recognized the perfume, but before she could push herself awake, she felt a hand, cool and slim at her shoulder. Weirdly comforting. "Laying about when everyone else is busy, I see. Typical." The words were snapped out, crisp, British.

"Em." Andy's reply was draggier than she meant it to be. She turned, making it a half stretch, like a cat's.

"And I see you've managed to look worse than ever. What happened to makeup?" Emily's gaze traveled over Andy in quick evaluation, her expression stern.

"I missed you too, Em. What time is it?"

"According to Nigel, time for you to get up and going. Though, if you want to continue laying about like a log, you're certainly welcome to. However, if you want to do something with that hair..."

"I'm up. I'm up." Andy began propping herself up from the prone position, and it folded her forward toward the slim red-head. "I'm going to hug you now. Brace yourself."

"If you must." Emily rolled her eyes. She endured for a moment before she shrugged out of the brunette's grip. "Now, tell me. What the bloody hell is the matter with you, disappearing like that? Miranda has been on a tear for months, and of course it's because of you. When's the last time you took your medication, you sodding bint?"

Andy blinked and frowned slightly. Generally insulting was Emily's natural disposition, but the more personal Emily's insults became, the more worried she truly was. It was Emily's way of telling her that she really looked like hell, despite everything. They had become good friends after Andy left _Runway_. Giving her the clothes from Paris had done wonders for bridging the gap between their differences, after Emily tore her a new one for abandoning Miranda the way she did.

Andy would have told Emily much sooner as she had known that Emily could be trusted to keep her mouth shut, even from Miranda, and that she wouldn't immediately go into denial or turn overly solicitous, and would accept her decisions as she made them; like Aunt Dorene. However, Emily had already followed Nigel across the pond and Andy had not wanted to bother her with the worry. It was difficult enough to deal with her parents.

She loved her parents, but every time they spoke, they immediately tried to convince her to return and try new methods to fight her illness.

"Technically, this morning."

The look of irritation zinged her way was pure Emily, which caused Andy to smile despite herself. "I suppose that's technically, as in, 'I looked at them in passing,'" the redhead sneered. Then she gently patted Andy's shoulder, "Get up you. Serena hasn't got all day."

Emily stood up from the couch and extended a hand, which Andy took. She pulled with a subtle strength, then locked Andy's arm with hers. Ostensibly to keep her from running away, but mostly to keep her close. "I don't suppose you have proper clothes?"

"Went shopping recently with someone who has an eye, so yes. I do."

"And this someone has a name?"

"Well, if you're digging, her name is Samantha and she's Tom's daughter."

"Ah, yes. The blonde. I met her. She has acceptable taste." Which meant, that she found Sam daring enough to be trusted to keep Andy's look interesting.

Andy smiled in memory of a different kind of taste, "Oh yeah. She does. And a great sense of humor too. You'll like her as you get to know her." She glanced about, "I see the crowd has thinned."

"They're all at the pool, waiting in line for their bloodwork, or scurrying back to SWAG, which, by the way I heard you planned on attending."

"I will be decently attired and shall not embarrass you."

"Thank. You."

They arrived in one of the rooms that had been transitioned into a Runway space. Serena was there, already ready. She welcomed Andy with a warm smile and air-kisses and then motioned her to a chair by a vanity with a mirror. "We shall set this ragamuffin hair right. Now sit." She turned to Emily, "And you go, Emily. I have her from here and you have much to do. I shall meet you at the SWAG later."

"She can catch a ride with me and the others." Andy turned her attention to Serena, "I mean, if that's okay."

"It's is perfection. I accept. I must ask you, Andy, as surely you will know. This Aunt Dorene. They say she is seven feet tall and can crush a man's skull. Is this true?"

Andy flashed a grin in the mirror at Emily, who offered the tiniest smile back before turning and leaving the room. "No. She's not seven feet tall. But I did see her destroy a melon with her fist once."

\- TDWP -


	10. Chapter 10

For K. And she knows who she is. And for the upcoming holiday. Happy 4th everyone.

 **TDWP: Enough Sunrises and Sunsets Pt. 10**

It didn't take long for Andy to realize that Serena knew, either by osmosis or because Emily, who was stalwart and closed mouthed under every unusual circumstance, also trusted the Brazilian implicitly. They were close, but Andy didn't know quite how close, except that they were definitely good friends and it was entirely likely that Serena knew that Emily was a vampire.

Either way, as the statuesque beauty reshaped Andy's hair to something more flattering, the Brazilian made subtle queries regarding Andy's state of being, her family, her friends, her outlook on life, and what she'd been doing for the last few months. By the time they were done, Andy was reminded that Serena was a goddess at transforming a person's appearance and even if the artist hadn't known before, she certainly did now.

"You're a magic worker, you know?" Andy said.

Serena nodded, "Yes, I am." And something in the way she said that had Andy second glancing.

"Wait. Are you saying..."

"I am not saying anything, but let us say that if one did... dabble in such things, how better to have reason to carry all one needs," Serena pointed at one of her bags and Andy had to agree.

"Ace disguise," she said respectfully. "I can see it. Thank you."

Serena patted her shoulder. "Go, get ready. I shall meet you..."

"Downstairs, library. We're all meeting there and Cole is driving a limo."

\- TDWP -

After a while, in the limo and when they were well on their way and in the middle of a completely different discussion, Dorene exclaimed, "What? Do I have something in my teeth? On my blouse?" She actually looked down at herself, trying to figure out what it was that Serena was looking at.

The Brazilian's laugh was warm and a little impish, even as Andy elbowed her softly in the side. "I am sorry. It is just you are not as tall as I expected."

"As tall as... Andy, what have you been telling this girl?"

"Don't look at me. This is entirely your fault." Andy pointed at her aunt with some amusement.

"My fault. What are you talking about?" Dorene exclaimed.

"Word of your power has spread through the Prestre and what is left of Tom's original Feryn," Serena added.

"My power..." Dorene blinked.

Nan suddenly started grinning. "Oh. Oh, I see." Then she patted Dorene's hand. "Don't worry about it. Your legend has simply increased from this morning's..." she glanced at Andy, not sure if she should mention, but then decided that the writer might as well know. "... altercation."

Andy sat up a little straighter, eyes wide. "Altercation..."

"Nothing to worry about. Just a little misunderstanding that was cleared up."

Nan contributed, "It worked out just fine, though William did have a little clean up afterward."

Dorene's niece eyed her aunt suspiciously for a few seconds more and then gave it up in the face of her Aunt's suddenly casual aplomb. This was not necessarily an unusual thing. One particular time stood out for Andy, as she remembered one way Dorene had cleared up a misunderstanding. Uncle Mitchell's trophy wife filed for an uncontested divorce and moved out of the country. Since the woman had been trying to get her hooks into Andy's cousin Alexander, who was going to inherit a very well off family business, and underage at the time, and since it was a ten-year-old Andy who'd brought the misunderstanding to Dorene's attention, the writer didn't feel the least bit sorry for her. It was possible Andy could have dug around earlier and found the truth regarding this latest escapade, but by the time she'd heard about Dorene from Nigel, the rumors had been flying fast and furious. The truth was long gone and held only in the eyes of two women who weren't talking.

But they were, however, holding hands.

"Fine," Andy said, most carefully not looking down at now twined fingers. She wasn't even sure that they were aware they were doing it.

Connie, who was just as aware of the hand holding as Andy, said, a little more brightly than needed, "So. Serena. How long have you and that red-headed dish been together?"

The artist blinked, then smiled. "Ah, you speak of Emily. We have been friends a very long time."

"I mean..."

"She knows what you mean," Andy said, and she looked at Serena. "Really? I mean, I thought..."

"She had … other interests." Serena cocked a brow, as if indicating that Andy should know right well what interests she was hinting at.

Andy's expression was utterly rueful. She, after all, was still wincing from her earlier epiphanies, even if they were perhaps not entirely correct in premise. "Oh. Right. Hard to compete with that." She looked briefly at Nan and offered a quicksilver smile, to let her know that she did, in fact, remember their conversation, but that she hadn't left the notion completely behind her. And, she felt better, in a strange way, because apparently, she wasn't the only one who had the thought, nor seen the consequences. She smiled companionably at Serena.

"Indeed. And then there is a matter of family, as mine would not approve." Again there was that cocked brow. Andy immediately got the code and understood the implications, vaguely. Apparently sorcerers, or at least Serena's family, didn't let themselves have vampire girlfriends or boyfriends. She briefly wondered if this were a blood thing or just a policy thing.

Connie meanwhile, completely misunderstanding, said, "Oh. They still stuck in the fifties?"

Serena's smile was, thankfully, more amused than anything. "One might say that. I come from a very... traditional family." Ah. Policy then and apparently very strict.

"And are you, very traditional?" Nan asked, curious.

"One can not work at Runway and stay too terribly so. My co-workers, however, would call it a leaning toward classic. I am pleased with how things are and I am free to pursue other options as I will."

Correction, moderately strict; or maybe just coming from a direction Andy didn't understand. She made a mental note to ask Serena if she ever had the chance.

Serena's expression turned a bit heated, and impish again, "And I often will."

Even as they all laughed, Nan said, "Well, in your case, I would say, one can hardly go wrong with classic."

\- TDWP -

SWAG was held in one of those massive convention centers, where thousands of people could co-mingle and attend the various events that were being held. In a way, this made Serena's presence a godsend, because she knew where to go. She helped them wend their way between people dressed to the nines, dressed to gaga, dressed in almost nothing and then the regular folk, tourists, who were gawking and and bringing every day interest to the big showings. They walked "forever" past panel rooms, design shows, rooms that were "in progress," getting ready for the next catwalk or demo, and the active catwalks, that were running simultaneously. And then there were the parties, some of which had libations, some of which did not, all of which had people coming in and out in excited droves. The paparazzi and legitimate press were flocking like confused birds, zipping in and out, trying to find their best angles, the most exciting moment, the stars.

"It's craziness!" Connie exclaimed. "Oh, Lily is gonna kill you for not calling her sooner."

"How was I to know?" Andy shared the awe. "Miranda is either hating this or..."

"... absolutely loving it," Nan said, equally amazed. "This is fantastic. If it weren't for the fact we're actually trying to find her, I'd be willing just to get lost here for awhile."

Andy let one of her brows rise, "Are you telling me you don't have some .. way of just finding her by … I dunno..."

Nan flicked a grin, "Hard to be subtle in a crowd, isn't it? Yes, of course, I could find her. As could Connie, but what's the fun in that? It's much more fun to watch Connie watch Serena pacing like a gazelle."

Dorene, who while not holding Nan's hand any more, had also not strayed very far, grinned. "I'd almost feel sorry for him, because she's going to shoot him down at some point, but...some people have to learn on their own."

"Ah. You caught that, did you?" Andy asked. "I figured Connie was missing the message."

"None so blind as those caught up in looking at other people's goods," Dorene's grin widened. "Even if they are unavailable."

"Maybe especially." Andy quipped, and then saw Serena swerve into one of the rooms. "Ah, there she goes." The artist disappeared into a large semi-darkened room. It was still open, with people flowing in and out, so it was likely the show hadn't started yet. The real question was whether there were good seats left or whether they'd have to stand. Miranda, of course, was right at the front, looking like royalty, and able to see the full glamorous procession. She was seated by a few luminaries, also worthy of their location. A few of her minions, the assistants, what was left of the art department, and sundry others, were seated directly behind her. And the rest were either scoping out other shows or parts of the SWAG, while others were scattered through the room, watching this one.

They were fortunate. Seating had been saved. "There you are!" Emily's hiss wasn't exactly loud, but somehow managed to cut across the noise anyway. She stood beside a short, empty row of seats, where she'd apparently been standing guard, just for them. As they flowed past, Connie first, followed by Dorene, then Nan, then Andy, the redhead scoped out the writer, nodding once. It was such a Miranda thing that the brunette was slightly taken aback by the mannerism. Yet, at the same time, it fit Emily, like a glove.

She was tempted to make small talk, to get a sense of how things were going, when the music started and the lights dimmed. They all sat and Andy found herself distinctly aware, with a persistent, fundamental sense of surprise, of two persons: Emily and Miranda. As her eyes could not seem to choose which to look at, and it was making her slightly dizzy to try, especially in the darkened setting, she settled on actually watching the show.

It became quickly apparent why Miranda chose to grace this particular design team's runway. It was entertaining, modern and streamlined, but with a sense of playfulness that kept the outfits from being repetitious. A model's job was to wear the clothes and not judge them, but there was a confidence and energy to their walk that suggested that they enjoyed what they were wearing and knew they looked good. It was eye candy, and palatable,

Despite her intention to just watch the show, Andy's attention did drift down to glance at Miranda. She stood out, as usual, snowy locks practically shining in the dim light, but it was the set of her body, confident and casual. Relaxed. Miranda was, at the very least, pleased with what she was seeing, which oddly filled a happy space in Andy, because this meant that, for the editor, whatever the other details may be, the trip had been worth something.

Once again, Andy was reminded that she liked seeing the editor happy, or at least moderately content, and a part of her wished she was down there, perhaps not by her, but across from her, to see what the shine in her eyes might be like. Either way, the writer relaxed and sat back, unaware of how graceful she looked in the forest green knee-length sheath, with her legs crossed and her expression soft.

"You might pass in that," Emily said quietly, not needing to point as they both saw the next model strolling the catwalk in a cherry red off the shoulder dress. From her that was extravagant praise, as the redhead was still not wont to praise Andy on what she wore; or at least, not too often.

"I couldn't afford... wait. Damn it. Yes I can. Crap."

"If you don't want your money, I'll take it."

Emily meant it as a joke and a jibe, but Andy's very serious, "Okay," caused a flinch; then, an unexpected hand grab. Andy continued, on a mental track, voice growing softer with each word, "But I'll need to stash some for a living expense and then away for the watchdogs, Mom and Dad, Lily, Doug, Dorene, Connie... Do you think Miranda would take some? Maybe a scholarship for the girls. I should do one for the cousins, nieces and nephews... I need to revise..."

"Hush, I don't need your money. You're disturbing the show," Emily said coolly. But she did not let go of Andy's hand, and gripped it tightly, just not bruisingly so.

"Who said anything about need," Andy whispered. "Might as well claim me as your sugar mama while you can." This time the comment was much more light hearted, much more Andy.

"I will paddle you in front of everyone here, if you don't zip it." Emily warned.

"Like she wouldn't take that dare," Connie almost whispered, leaning over to say it so they could see him.

"True," Dorene hummed. Nan just looked amused, but her attention was still, technically on the show.

"Not helping," Andy glared and blushed.

"I'd beg to disagree, but I see my work is done." Connie offered a toothy grin and sat back.

\- TDWP -

It should not have come as a surprise that, after Miranda disappeared into the back of the runway area, where the clothes were now on the rack and at the invite of the designers, who were waiting for a verdict from the queen of fashion, that they too were summoned; though by Miranda's assistant.

Andy felt a heady case of nerves descend, as it had been some time since she'd seen the fashion maven work the crowds and even now, the memory alone, left her feeling the editor's amazing charm and eloquence. Yet, as she followed behind the others, and passed behind the curtain separating stage and back, she also experienced a sense of familiarity. "Didn't expect to get to see all this again. You'd think it would be easier."

Of course, Emily had let go of her hand sometime ago, just before the designers had finished their bows. They had to join the applause after all. The Brit, however, had essentially walked with the writer. "If it were always easy, it wouldn't be fashion."

"At least we don't have to take the notes." Andy watched the assistant who summoned them rush off, sent on yet another errand, just as Nan reached Miranda and they air kissed.

"You know, maybe I..."

Her elbow was taken firmly, "I don't think so." Emily turned a blazing blue gaze on her errant friend, "I keep hearing about amazing adventures you've had. Where, pray tell, is that woman?"

"I think she may be hiding behind those skirts," Andy pointed.

Emily sniffed, "Well, they are wide enough..."

"Hey! But the truth is, it took me a long time to feel brave around Miranda and it comes and goes."

"Well, put on your brave face, we don't want weakness in front of the designers. They can smell it, you know."

Andy choked back a laugh, but the words were enough to secure a winning smile. And then it was she, who was kissing air against the editor's cheek, and greeting her with a soft, "Hi, Miranda."

The editor murmured, "Andrea," and it was enough to lift the younger woman's skin in sensual prickles. Miranda drew back and peered sternly at the writer, before letting her glance do its usual once over. The nod was a win, but it was tempered by the sense that Andy knew that Miranda wanted to say something, but simply wasn't. Yet.

Instead, the editor turned from Andy, while at the same time, drawing her to her side, with one hand. She then greeted Emily, same air kisses, but now the redhead was to her other side.

While neither of the women were actually behind Miranda, Andy felt an incredible sense of deja vu; a feeling which harked back to a certain party, where she and Emily had held station while the editor did the meet and greet. And then, it was as if the world sped up, or rather, things happened so quickly, it left Andy a touch breathless.

One moment they were talking with the designers, the next they were running, not literally, a gauntlet of parties and watching another runway event. This time, she and Emily sat directly behind the editor, watching the show from second tier seats. It should have, by all rights, made Andy more uncomfortable, but it had the opposite effect.

She really enjoyed watching Miranda's responses, the tells that were in her facial expression, the simple finger wave that let the nearest earnest assistant know to follow up, the interaction with fellow souls who, like her, knew and enjoyed fine clothes, fine design, fine everything. It was also fun to try and guess which ones would prick the editor's interest, and realize she still had that sense, that it hadn't gone away just because Andy had left.

Since she wasn't in Miranda's employ, she felt somewhat okay with noting the ones that caught her eye to Emily, both the good and bad. They didn't shred anything, but just short blips of conversation on what she thought worked and what so didn't. Except for one case. "That one's gonna show up on fashion police for sure," she commented in a whisper, about a grey pant suit. It had diamonds cut in various sizes through the back and sides of the jacket and then down the side of the slacks. The double breasted diamond buttons on the jacket helped a little, but the huge ivory cowl blouse was overblown and too much for the outfit. And then there were the shoes, platforms, grey like the suit, but furry. All the way down.

"I mean, I can see where they were headed, by following the theme, but too much. Way too much. Should have picked either or. Either the slacks. Or the jacket. If they kept the slacks, keep the cowl, cut the sleeves, drop some of that extra footage and go for some huge bangles. That one sun with a ruby stone piece we saw about an hour ago would compliment, I think. If they keep the jacket, classic white silk blouse, simple jewelry, but with the diamond theme, any dark pant, and god help me if I see another pair of furry platform shoes on a woman that tall. Makes 'em look like mutant horses ..."

Andy missed the flash of amusement that sparked on Miranda's face before returning to its normal event neutral-slash-pleasant. Emily, however, didn't bother to hide hers. "Unfortunately that's a current fashion affliction. If it can be done, do it to excess," commented Emily.

"I thought you liked excess."

Emily's glance at Andy was sly. "There is a time and place for everything." The way she said it, the slide of it, ran a blush right up Andy's spine to her face.

Andy offered a compressed smile, aware that her color was high. "Okay, that was a good one. And if you're hitting the mark that easy, I think it may be time for me to head home."

Emily, who had been staying alert to changes in Andy's demeanor, realized that she was probably serious. After all, she'd found her napping on the couch when pretty much the whole mansion was in an uptick of activity. "I'll arrange it."

"I have Cole's number to call ..."

Emily put her hand on Andy's thigh, offering a piercing look.

"Fine," Andy grumbled, just a little.

\- TDWP -

It should have been more uncomfortable, Andy thought, as the limo, one not driven by Cole, but by another Prestre bodyguard / driver, whisked them away from the SWAG. "Them" consisted of herself, Emily, an assistant, Nan and Dorene, and Miranda. In some ways, Andy should have been clawing her way out of the car, but once again, when faced with the editor's close proximity, Andy was … comforted.

She couldn't have begun to say why, except that she found Miranda's rapid-fire notations and instructions, which bounced around the otherwise quiet cab, relaxing. And her fierce, ever present, "presence," which should have caused her to feel overwhelmed (and certainly did when she was an assistant) instead caused her to bask; like Miranda was the sun and she a flower.

Weird.

She supposed since she wasn't the one who had to do the writing, she could just listen.

She certainly wasn't doing much looking, as her eyes were closed and she was leaning back, long legs comfortably extended and shoes off; that alone sold her on limo-rides home. She felt comfortable enough and that probably should have warned her on some level to not to interject, not for Miranda, but for the assistant. Yet she did it anyway. "That was in section F panel room D. They'll only be there half day tomorrow, because the designer is heading home to Arizona. It's the centerpiece of the collection, so you can't miss it, but wow, all that white gold and turquoise. Stunning stuff."

"Stuff?" Miranda said slowly, dangerously.

Andy cocked an eye half open, and managed to swivel her attention to the editor without actually lifting her head from the back of the seat. "In this case, I refer to the entire substance of the creation, from metal to make. It's correct terminology and not entirely a shortcut."

Nan grinned, "Good save."

Which caused Andy to chuckle. "Well, I know by now not to use an all encompassing word around Miranda, without at least knowing what the hell I'm talking about." Then she grimaced. "Speaking of knowing what I'm talking about, Aunt Dorene, would you tap the nice driver on the shoulder and tell him to take the next available turn off to someplace with a restroom. I'm not picky."

As if Miranda had been waiting for just such an opening and needed the bare-boned excuse to make it sound as if she were chiding, "What is wrong with you?"

"Talk to Dr. Acheson about that, but the first doc I went to said, "Your blood's gone bad." Which, it was just infuriating, because what the heck does that mean? All those specialists couldn't tell me. I felt like one of those movie heroines where the ailment is mysterious, but you know it's not going to end well. The docs could only run me through a gauntlet, chemo and x-ray and whatever else they thought might work. Stopped feeling like myself and I thought, Andy, you got a choice..." The brunette exhaled and then laughed. "But that wasn't what you meant to find out, this time. Heh. Sorry. You were wondering at my audacity. Well, I tell you, Miranda, I think you are awesome, tasty, and better than a roller coaster ride for thrills, but I've had a few things put into perspective. Not that I ever have perspective where you're concerned."

Emily reached and took Andy's hand. "You're babbling."

"I really need that restroom."

"Soon."

"You're gonna have to be ready to get out of my way, Em. Don't want to trample over you."

"I'd hardly let you."

"I know," Andy said with a wealth of affection in her voice. She managed to push herself enough to slide on her shoes and grab her clutch.

The long vehicle slid to a stop at one of the ubiquitous side restaurants. As promised, Emily got out of Andy's way with an alacrity that only an enhanced being could manage. It had caused the brunette to send a flashing grin her way. "If I'm not back in five minutes head on back without me. I have Tom's address."

"Oh, that's not going to happen," Dorene said as she scooted out, her expression alarmed. Andy was already through the door. Her aunt ran to catch up.

"Should I call ..." the assistant started to offer, pulling out her phone.

Nan shook her head, started sliding out herself; there was no way she was letting either woman stay unprotected. "No. I'm sure it's nothing. Just organize your notes. Be right back."

Miranda got out of the other side. "Emily, get back in the limo and make sure Sandra stays here."

The assistant's eyes went wide, either because she couldn't believe Miranda was about to step into the middle class venue or because she actually used her name. However, she didn't stare, because Emily's glare was enough to turn a person into stone if they looked too hard. She decided to take Nan's advice and organize her notes.

Miranda understood, almost as soon as she entered the building, what Andy's scurrying away was really about. The tang of fresh blood was palpable and she suspected that Andrea's impulse to leave the car had more to do with preserving its innards than herself. Irritating. She didn't need any sign to find them tucked away in the modest restroom, which was, fortunately for them, roomy enough to accommodate.

Nan stood just inside the door, guarding them. "Bloody nose," she whispered, too quiet for human ears. "She felt it coming. Didn't want to alarm anyone."

"As if I'm not alarmed anyhow." Miranda grimaced at her friend.

"Dorene's in there holding Andy's nose," Nan explained.

"Standard first aid. I'm going in," Miranda said.

"Good luck. She may not let you help," Nan warned.

"Let me?" Miranda's brow arched.

Nan's chuckle was very dry.

Then Miranda opened the stall door. Andy was sitting on a chair, head canted slightly back, with Dorene at her side, doing exactly as Nan had described. They both looked over as she approached. "I was under the impression that one was supposed to lean forward to stop a bloody nose."

"You are, but for some reason, it always seems to make them worse for some of us. It's a family trait." Dorene answered for Andy. "Don't worry though, she's not in danger of swallowing."

"Move." Miranda ordered the moment she was standing next to the seated woman.

"Technique requires five minutes of hold," Dorene began.

"That was not a request."

"Miranda," Andy said nasally, "What are you gonna do, lick my nostril? It'll pass in just a minute."

"Move." Miranda, who was not in a mood for argument, added a push. The next thing Dorene knew, she was standing beside Nan, looking at Miranda's back. She was not confused, though she was a little dismayed until she really understood the other woman's body language. Miranda was concerned.

Andy, meanwhile, felt cool fingers pressing the soft tissues of her nose together. Miranda, who was willing to own that the smell of Andy's blood was very compelling and it was making her temper slightly short, kept her tone as modulated as she could. "I would appreciate it, if you wouldn't argue with me about everything."

"Argue. I haven't been... Yowtch." The pinch was a little sharp. "Fine."

"I won't be licking your nose, but I am a master of the blood. Observe."

It wasn't so much about observing, so much as, Andy felt a spread of warmth from where Miranda's fingertips touched, to inside her nose and down her throat. It was a matter of seconds, and then, no more nose bleed.

The squeezing stopped, and Miranda's fingertips glided from the top of Andy's nose, to just under and above her upper lip. Then swiped, brushing across with gentle efficiency. The blood disappeared on her fingertips. She tapped Andy's nose once, just because. Then she said, "Now, can we go?"

\- TDWP -

Next


	11. Chapter 11

**TDWP: Enough Sunrises and Sunsets Pt. 11**

The rest of the limo ride was uneventful, thankfully. The crowd at the mansion had thinned out substantially, though there were still more people there than usual. However, the evening party was in play, only with much fewer humans in attendance and probably only those who knew the score or had reason to be there. The door opened for Miranda, who led the way, before she even set foot on the entranceway patio. She asked, "Is Paul here yet?"

"No, Matriarch."

"I will be in my rooms preparing for dinner. Andrea will be resting in her room, do not disturb her until a half hour before. The setting schedule will be posted by my assistant to William. See that it is followed to the letter. That's all."

"Yes, Matriarch."

"Andrea," Miranda said, as the younger woman passed, "Kindly do not wrinkle that dress. It is an acceptable look for you and you worked so hard to preserve it." The editor then walked away, without looking back at the gaping younger woman.

Andy might have griped at the high handed way with which Miranda essentially sent her to bed, but honestly, on the one hand annoyance and the other flattery. How could she stay mad at the woman for being herself? Not, she suspected, that she was seeing the entire picture. After all, she rarely spoke that way to her girls.

And, she noticed, she didn't speak that way to Em. Mostly.

Strange. Weird and strange.

She did not wrinkle the dress. She took it off, hung it up, divested herself of non-essentials and basically fell asleep, under the covers of her bed, mostly nude. She was gone almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Seconds later, it seemed, a knock at the door summoned her from her slumber. She rolled up, and out, ambled to the door and cracked it open. "It is now a half hour until dinner," William said. Andy blinked at him as if he'd spoken ancient Babylonian, then she'd shrugged, shut the door, started toward the bed again...

And stopped.

Right. Dinner. Wherein the plot thickened and Paul of the Tosri got a comeuppance. Possibly a permanent one.

She wasn't entirely sure how she felt about that, except that she knew Tom well and Paul not at all. And that guy may have sent people to snatch her. Which caused her to nearly drown.

Okay, sympathy and empathy was over. Time to get presentable.

As there was no dress declared, Andy went casual. She was pretty sure that Miranda, Nan, and Emily would probably outshine anything she put together, and, honestly, this dinner was being held at home. And to her, home implied a certain leeway in how one approached the dinner table. But even as she dressed "casual," she realized she was choosing pressed slacks over jeans, and blouse over tee. So, really, not that casual. She was, however, entirely too tempted to wear sandals, just to balance it out. But she didn't. So she was in heels again, after a day of wearing them.

Not necessarily the worst thing, but apparently, she was going to go "armed" anyhow.

Hair fixed and makeup reapplied and she was ready for whatever throwdown happened.

She was also much too gratified to see that all three of the Sachs had apparently had the same thought. Dorene and Connie hadn't quite taken a seat either and they drifted toward Andy when she arrived. "How you doing squirt?" Dorene asked.

"Rested. Not quite recuperated. Still going back to SWAG tomorrow, because wow."

"No doubt." Connie said, "Got a call from Lils and Dougie. They're on their way. So let's see, today is-was Wednesday, so they get here tomorrow, they got all weekend. I think she'll forgive you."

Andy grinned. "Hah. She already has, I sent her some pics and a program. I don't doubt she's got an itinerary all laid out. And with free room and board..."

"And a lot of vampires…," Connie pointed out.

"Again, Hah. Like she hasn't dealt with artsy types before." She hand-waved in a faux genteel manner.

Connie knocked Andy's shoulder with his, not too roughly, but enough to get an arched brow from Dorene, which settled them both for about five seconds.

"Anyone know where and how we're seated?" Andy queried as she observed the table, which had been formed into a long U-shape rather than a straight long table; which reminded her of a medieval court set up, and which this might actually be. She didn't quite let her alarm show.

"We're all on the right of Tom. He'll take head."

"Really? I thought Miranda might."

"Nope. His show tonight. Mostly. When she goes back home, he'll be the one running the territory down here on behalf of Prestre."

"So he has to demonstrate he can keep it and deal with the fun and the shenanigans."

"Which, speaking of, Miranda was very specific about where you're sitting." Connie hooked his arm with hers and led her to a seat a few seats down on the right from the head of the table. He grinned and said, "This one is yours. And more power to you."

"Somehow I get the feeling this is non-traditional?"

"Oh, well, you might say." Connie tapped a seat beside Andy's. "This will be Nan's. And by her, Dorene. And then me. Also, non-traditional. Sam will be Tom's left. More traditional. Normally I would sit by her, but Tom wanted a little family blood between Dorene and our newest kin; something to smooth the way, so to speak. And though we share the same sign, I'm more than able to watch out for myself."

Andy cleared her throat at the implication of danger and chose to focus on other matters, "So I'll be sitting by..."

"Me, of course," Emily said as she strode in, joining their conversation. Andy couldn't help the perusal she gave her friend. She was like eye candy, glorious to behold. The folded blue satin dress was obviously made for her, causing both her hair and eyes to shine. The blue heels and the sapphires capped it off. "Miranda will take the right of Tom. Nigel to her right, Serena, then me."

"Em, you look fantastic," Andy gushed honestly.

"Edible," Connie offered enthusiastically.

Time was, Emily would have preened at the compliments, but she merely accepted them as her due. Or, rather, any rise in confidence had little to do with her clothing choices. The redhead came to stand by Andy, near the place where they would sit. Her gaze had taken in the brunette, but she offered no comment on appearance. At least, not verbally.

Andy, flushing a little, tried to regain traction on the original conversation, but she didn't look away from Emily. "Okay, I think I have the bigger picture now. But shouldn't Nan be..."

"Yes. But Miranda wants her to sit by Dorene. This is about..."

"Guarding your assets and showing the importance placed on the task," Dorene injected, sounding surprisingly comfortable with the idea. Or maybe she was simply fine with sitting by Nan. She gazed speculatively at Emily. "It also may be about displaying relationships, but that's a whole other level of checkers and I have other things I'd rather be thinking about."

Andy grinned. Perhaps Dorene wasn't as oblivious about the hand holding as she thought.

"This is about family and kinship," Emily corrected. "You are far more than assets to us." Her eyes fell on Andy, who was distracted by the entrance of William with one of his ubiquitous serving carts. Dorene, however, caught the glance.

Her reply was gentler than she might have intended. "I see. Thank you for clearing that up. It actually helps to know I won't be thrown out because I used the wrong silver."

"Well, maybe not you..." Emily drawled.

Andy might not have been looking, but she knew that tone of voice, and popped her hip at the Brit, who allowed the brief contact. "Shuddap. I got my learnin' from the experts. I'm good at forkin.'"

"That. Was. Horrible," Connie groaned.

"Thank you," grinned the writer. "Just be glad I won't have to ask what tine it is, during the meal."

"Stop. Please. You're killin' me."

"Can't. You're already dead, Connie. You're just gonna have to suffer through the cleaverness."

When all three of the others groaned, Andy smiled, "And, my work is done."

\- TDWP -

Andy didn't think there was a prohibition against sitting down, but as if there were a non-verbal agreement to wait, they all remained standing. Furthermore, as if to facilitate the conversational mood, William arrived and provided drinks. Nigel, of course, timed things perfectly and arrived just as the social lubrication was being served.

It wasn't much longer before Samantha and Nan also made an appearance. Andy peeled away toward the blonde, utterly unaware of the look that briefly flashed over Emily's face; before it was wiped away with a much more neutral and still expression.

The brunette smiled easily at her friend. "Hey, I've been meaning to ask. Your steady beau..."

Sam quietly replied, "Is safely out of state. He and I had a conversation when I told him about the arrival of a certain editor-in-chief. It seems he had places to go, things to do. Wisely so."

"Should I offer condolence?" Andy edged closer.

Sam shook her head. "Not yet. He's figuring out the best way to grovel, but we're both agreed that until certain things are resolved... a little space is something we both can handle."

Andy nodded and patted her friend's shoulder, "Well, if you need to bend an ear..."

"Thank you." Sam smiled warmly.

\- TDWP -

Andy eventually returned to Emily's side. They'd both done a little polite circulating as the small crowd thickened. Andy recognized a few of Tom's, 'friends,' whom she now realized were much more than that. Subtle shifts in body language alerted her as to when the Tosri arrived; a lot of it seemed to consist of watchful diligence on the part of the Prestre and alert surprise on the part of Paul's people and maybe a little contemplative bloodthirstiness in both directions. Though Paul's people extended that toward Andy and her Aunt Dorene and, to a lesser, but still significant, degree, Serena.

Andy could grasp some of the undercurrent; she'd been experiencing alert surprise for days now and that had her in states of contemplation often. One got used to it. The bloodthirsty bit, well, she wasn't sure who they were trying to intimidate **.** Sam had already told her that blood was not on the menu, no matter how exotic and tempting the blend of their presence might be.

That was one of the things she really liked about Sam. She was forthright with Andy and any question could be asked. So, Andy had a basic understanding that certain "pure" strains, provoked a kind of wistfulness and hunger in a vampire and that really, the word flavor might be wrong, but the Japanese Umami might come close. Sam had given her a word, but Andy couldn't make the supple tongue movements that made it trill right. Nor did she have the teeth for it. Suffice to say, the simpler reason was that magic was a very potent lure and an awesome taste for vampires.

It explained, in a basic sense, why a faction might be willing to risk the wrath of another to acquire potent sources.

As soon as the "new people" arrived, she felt a shift in Emily, who drew closer. And when a particularly tall and broad-shouldered Tosri had flashed teeth at Andy, she'd wrapped an arm around the brunette's waist. Andy would have thought it a strangely possessive gesture, except that she was fairly sure that Emily's interest did not diverge her way at all. Well, except now maybe as a snack.

Cubes of cheese indeed. Looking back on it, Andy was amazed that she hadn't figured it out sooner.

Still, as another vampire decided to "smile" at Andy, she felt herself drawing closer, by essentially backing up to Emily; who was surprisingly sturdy. "So, Em," she said conversationally, "What is it, exactly that you're doing these days?"

"Part of the art department, and senior editor, London _Runway_ **.** Nigel, of course, editor-in-chief. Also, watching over you." The answer, which should have felt much less sexy than it did, was whispered right to her ear. Andy felt a shiver, very mild, but definitely reactive to Emily's tone and physical presence, slide through her.

"If I said I could watch over myself?" Andy queried.

"I'd find it entirely laughable. You are surrounded by people who are stronger, faster, and much more dangerous than you." Emily countered.

"That's half my life, Em." For a moment, Andy considered why she didn't include Emily in that number, though she should have. The woman who held her now was a far, far more dangerous person than the one whose leg had been broken by a taxi. Yet she also felt much more secure with her around, even more than when she'd been a fellow assistant and the barbs had been flowing fast and mostly furious around her. When she thought of Emily showing her teeth, her reaction was an unconscious baring of the neck, a warmth in the belly and her hand gripping the one that held her securely.

Andy was about to add more to her reply, when she felt Miranda. Not saw her, but felt her. For a moment, she thought her whole body might melt; which apparently was not the reaction most others were having. The majority, except for a very few, were bowing away from the direction of the open double doors. The quality of the keen she barely kept from escaping her lips was fundamentally different from the few that erupted from the weaker Prestre and Tosri, as an immediate ache of need coursed through her.

"Easy," Emily spoke softly, calmly, and reassuringly, "I have you."

Andy realized then that she could not possibly claim an indifference to her friend, as all her words did was add to her inner fireworks. Her hand, which had been a gentle grasp on the Brit's became iron tight and parts of her anatomy went on high alert. Her nipples felt as if they would puncture her bra, and the exposed parts of her body were distinctly flushed.

Somewhere behind her, she heard Aunt Dorene cuss quite virulently and then fall silent. Andy intuited, though really her mind wasn't on processing it, that Nan had soothed her. Much like Emily, whose hand, still in that tight clasp, made very slow, circular motions and she wasn't sure, but that she felt a feather-light press of lips at the column of her neck and a hint of sharpness, not pressing, but oddly comforting in a distracting way.

When she closed her eyes, because suddenly she needed to, Andy fully expected to see Miranda behind her eyelids, like usual. And certainly she felt the potency of her presence, and while Miranda was most certainly there, so was Emily, whom she visualized standing off to the side of the editrix with a heated glint in her eyes, so different from the icy possession of the white-haired fashion maven.

It was forever and just a few short moments before that incredible sensation eased in her mind, in her body. Even as the pressure dissipated, Andy still felt the pulsing of her blood and need, which had funneled south and pooled at her loins. She throbbed, and if they had been alone, she probably would have guided Emily's hand down to where she really wanted it.

As it was, the redhead did not let go, though Andy felt the absence of the touch of her lips very strongly. "Only a few moments more." The words held promise. When Andy opened her eyes and realized how certain beings were staring at her, and by extension Emily, she forced herself to breathe easy, to stretch into their contact like this was something they did all the time. The glares were hungry, just a shade off of angry; definitely a touch greedy.

Andy spotted Connie then, standing nonchalantly near his spot. His smile was grimmer than usual, but he did not appear bent or dismayed. He nodded to Andy, laid his hand over his heart very briefly, and she relaxed even further, reminded that they were family and in that alone, they outnumbered those who surrounded them.

"She's coming," Andy whispered.

Emily's cheek pressed closer to Andy, "Mm. Yes. You always could tell. I sometimes thought you could even predict what she was wearing some days."

"I could. I mean, I did. It's been awhile, Em. I'm out of practice."

Em's chuckle, surprisingly throaty, intimate, pulsed through her. It was on that note, that more people arrived.

Andy guessed that the male was Paul. He was taller than Tom, and bulkier. His eyes were like cold jade, his hair a dark brown and curly. His lips were thin with displeasure, but he hid it otherwise. He wore a dark suit, pinstriped, but no tie. The color of his suit matched the black that his companion wore. Her hand rested on his forearm, pale and manicured. She wore a trim knee length short sleeved dress, and heels which made her as tall as him. She glided beside him. The bottom half of her face was covered with a black, red silk-trimmed veil. Her long sunlight brightened blonde hair contrasted, falling in gentle waves down her shoulder, her back. Her eyes counted people, things, exits, even as she seemed to stroll with ease beside him.

That would be Terry, who, Andy thought, absolutely did not want to be there; but she was the trophy and Paul had brought her, intending to show off, to put the screw to Tom.

She wondered what the veil hid and Andy found her gaze narrowing at Paul, a sense of dislike on her tongue, in her head. She tried to guess what would lead an attractive woman, and it was apparent that Terry was beautiful, to hide her face. She might as well be wearing sunglasses and be telling people that she ran into a doorway.

Andy wished she could see what Emily's expression was like, to gauge whether her impression of the situation was close. After all, it could be a vampiric fashion statement and she could be reading the way the woman's eyes flitted around the room, totally incorrectly.

But it didn't change that this appearance worried Andy, on several levels.

Not that she had a chance to linger in it. Emily's touch shifted and stilled. She still held Andrea in the clench, but a part of them both straightened to attention out of habit.

The next people to arrive were Tom, who looked smashing even though he had dressed much more casually than Paul, and Miranda, who as usual, appeared glorious. As Connie would say, edible. For the first time, since Andy had been there, she felt an envy for Tom, because the editor's hand rested on his arm; much like Terry's had on Paul's. Though, both Tom and Miranda's expressions seemed very light, almost amused and pleasant, as if this were something that happened every day and people should be having a good time.

Right. Which really meant the knives would be coming out and some blood was getting drawn sometime in the near future, no matter what was on the menu.

\- TDWP -

A/N: Now, before you get too excited, this is a two year old chapter (give or take). I was working on this and a few others before I broke my ankle and I lost confidence on how it turned out after - because, well, I wasn't quite in the right space to think things through. But, looking back, it's not a bad chapter and it seems a waste to not share it. So, here it is.


	12. Chapter 12

**TDWP: Enough Sunrises and Sunsets Pt. 12**

At least the high back seats were comfortable, even if the tension coming from the other side of the "U" was thick enough to coat the air. The first course had been delivered and Andy was unselfconscious about applying herself to it, since it had been a long day and she was hungry. Emily, she was surprised to see, also ate a healthy portion. The redhead had merely cocked a brow, daring Andy to say something. But frankly, the brunette felt a little out of dares for the moment.

Nan, on her other side, ate with simple elegance and in surprising silence, given her normally social nature. She was watching everything with a sharply attentive gaze. Dorene ate with a grim determination, not exactly shoveling the food, but Andy wasn't entirely sure she was tasting it; which was a shame, because it was quite good. However, her aunt's gaze and assumptions had obviously traveled in a similar direction to Andy's, in regard to the woman at Paul's side.

Terry had not eaten anything at all. Her hand played with the handle of a knife, twisting it back and forth between index finger and thumb. She did not appear to be looking at anything or anyone in particular at the moment, but now and then her gaze would pass near Tom and she'd flinch.

Paul, meanwhile, was apparently choosing to act cool and had leaned back in his chair, with a relaxed flair. He was technically smiling, and conversing pleasantly with Sam, but his eyes were flint hard.

It wasn't all doom and gloom. Small conversations were happening between neighboring diners, which provided a murmuring background.

By the time the next course was served, the edge of Andy's appetite had been taken off and she slowed down; enough to allow her to feel more like talking herself, but she couldn't think of anything useful to say.

Emily leaned toward her, "Don't worry so much."

"I am trying, but Emily, this is way, way..." She left the thought unfinished, knowing that her friend would understand.

"Nonsense. You've seen this sort of thing before."

"Yeah, but they were wielding sewing needles and fashion handbooks. This is kind of different, don't you think ..."

Nan delicately covered a cough of a laugh with her napkin and, Dorene, who apparently had also overheard set her forkful of food down.

"I thought it was Jimmy Choo Heels and Handbags," Serena quipped, leaning forward to toast Andy with a lift of her wineglass.

The writer laughed and lifted her own glass, joining that unspoken toast of _Runway_ battle survivors.

After that, the conversation eased, at least around Andy and she relaxed enough to let go of the slow butterflies that had been building. It was pleasant and engaging enough that it took her a moment to register that some voices had started to rise. She had paused mid-statement, a little puzzled about the direction and then she realized that it was coming from both "their" side and the other.

The words being spoken, however, had drifted past English into something quite other. It was also apparent that the words being spoken might have sounded genteel, but weren't. These were the younger vampires, the ones sitting down at the farther end of the table. It started to escalate, and then the sound of a hand smacking the table, like a gunshot, echoed through the room. "That's enough, children!" Dorene snapped out. "Tone it down and speak in English. You're being rude at the table."

The Tosri side blinked and were taken aback, while the Prestre side immediately began to re-comport themselves with mild and mostly mumbled apologies, of "Sorry, Aunt Dorene. Apologies, Aunt Dorene. Yes, Aunt Dorene."

Connie and Andy worked very hard to stifle chuckles, both of them looking down at their plate for a good minute until they could also behave themselves. This was not an unfamiliar scene for them. It was just the location that was so unusual.

As no one from the top said anything, things settled down for awhile and dinner continued relatively peacefully.

Andy, curious about how Miranda was responding to all this, looked her way. The editor had a slight smile on her lips, though her gaze was just as sharp as ever. Before the brunette could get lost in watching Miranda, however, there was another commotion.

"Why do you stare at me, human?" Paul sneered at Dorene, who had indeed been staring a hole in the middle of his head for the last several minutes.

"What did you do to her, Paul?" Dorene asked into the suddenly dead silent hall. Andy gasped, but somehow wasn't surprised. It was a question that was burning in the back of her mind too. One of the Sachs was going to ask it, eventually.

"It's not your concern." His eyes flicked over her, dismissing her as unimportant.

"Are you very sure about that?" Dorene set her napkin in the middle of her plate.

Connie murmured, "Here we go. He's gonna rile her."

Andy sat back, leaned and looked past Nan and stage whispered, "Gonna?"

"Human, you had best remember your place. Here you are nothing, but food." Pau's demeanor sharpened dangerously, but his aspect somehow still remained cool.

Dorene put both hands on the table, letting one settle on the cutlery. "Regardless of what you think of me and my supposed status, I'm afraid this isn't something I can let pass. This is a woman thing and there are some moments that call for intervention. I suggest you moderate your tone and answer the question."

For once a form of heat seemed to enter his eyes. "You want to know! Fine. This is a vampire matter, human. It outweighs your petty little morals." His hand flicked out and before anyone could even really gasp or react or be horrified, yanked the cover off of Terry's face. The woman's hands flew to her mouth, but not before the bruises and the gaping spaces where teeth, all of them, used to be, were revealed to those who happened to be watching this drama; which happened to be almost everyone at the table. It was a horrifying revelation, one that affected not only the Prestres and the Sachs, but even the Tosri; some of whom howled as if this was a wound of their own.

One did not break teeth, except for the worst of the worst. Teeth, for a vampire, was their gift and life, it was part of their sexuality, part of their strength. A vampire might chip their fangs and they would heal, but to have them pulled... it was a desecration.

Paul, meanwhile, was justifying. "She was given to me, has refused to learn her place, and I am the one who she must obey. As she will not drink what is offered to her, she will take my blood or starve."

Tom jerked forward, a growl on his lips and a howl of pain in his heart, but strong hands held him down on either side.

"Well, now we can see she's been making the right choice," Dorene spat out, as angry as Andy had ever seen her. They might have had their conflicts with vampires, but it was always about, "what was right," with the professor.

"Do you know who I am?" Paul growled.

Dorene lifted the knife resting next to her plate and twirled it between her fingers, giving him a menacing stare, "I don't care if you're Jesus Christ reincarnated in Mahatma Ghandi's body practicing Buddhism, you hurt her again, and I'll take this butterknife and turn you into a handless eunuch."

Paul stood up from his chair with a roar, kicking it back. "You dare!"

Dorene was on her feet too then, "Want to try me, little man? Think you're so tough? Think I can't move as fast as you?"

She wasn't alone, both Andy and Connie had stood up just as abruptly. It wasn't even a matter of having her back. They'd literally stood at the same time, as if a wire had pulled them all up at once.

"Wait," Andy snapped out, but not to stop the fight. She'd gained some benefits of knowing the code from her research at the library. "I say this as Asclepius. Terry, the Sachs offer you sanctuary, refuge. We offer blood. Drink of us and be free."

Andy picked up an empty glass, one that might have been used for water.

"I need a knife. A sharper one than this." She pointed at the flatware that was currently available. Then as if memory struck, she turned, stepped away from her place at the table and paced to the guard that Tom had assigned to her. She slipped her hand inside his coat, pulling a switchblade out of an inner pocket. Despite the formal wear, she knew he had it on him. He'd once told her that he never left his rooms without it, as a reminder of his old life. He did not stop her, but watched her with respect in his eyes.

She paced back to the table then, flipping the knife open with an expertise that surprised some people, but not one of the Sachs. Then, without a single flinch, she drew it down her palm and squeezed her hand over the glass. Her blood quickly poured. Then she handed the glass over to Nan, who cradling it like it was the chalice of legend, put it before Dorene.

Her aunt, still furious, glared at the glass and then she lifted her eyes and looked directly at Terry.

Paul was shouting, "What is this?"

But no one answered, because everyone was watching the three humans.

"Terry, the Sachs offer you sanctuary, refuge. We offer blood. Drink of us and be free." Dorene carried her own blade. She dropped the flatware and pulled out a holdout weapon. Then, flicking it open, and like Andy before her, the knife struck palm and blood was added to the glass.

Even as Dorene's blood was trickling, Connie was spitting out the same phrase. He didn't have to bother with a knife. He used a fingernail. And then, he added his essence to the mix.

Andy, though she was paying attention to the impromptu ceremony, saw that Paul was about to make a move. She lifted her bloody palm and pointed and said, "Don't you dare. We've made the call and she has the right to respond. And don't pretend not to know what I am and that I didn't have the right to do this."

He snarled at her, staring at her in disbelief, but he no longer looked as if he might jump the table at any moment.

"Who will carry the blood?" Connie ground out.

"I will." Serena stood then. "It is my right and my duty."

"We accept," Dorene said, her gaze returned to Paul again, daring him.

"Dorene?" Nan began quietly.

"What?" the younger woman replied.

Nan's expression was stern. "You will not fight with a wounded hand. I won't allow it."

"You won't..." Dorene's gaze flicked to Nan and then, her own expression gentled for just a moment and she thrust her hand forward.

The vampire's tongue laved the woman's palm in quick swipes, not lingering to seduce, though they both felt the potency of the moment.

"So," Emily said beside Andy, "Are you just going to stand there and bleed all over the table?"

"Bleed all over..." Andy looked at her hand and then blushed. She looked at Emily then and blushed even more. "Would you consider..."

"Oh. Just..." The Brit extended her hand. Then, after Andy accepted the unfinished invite, she brought the wound to her lips. She inhaled, shivering in a sudden anticipation. It was only with an iron will that she kept the gasp of pleasure from expressing when she tasted Andy. She felt the young woman's blood rush through her like a liquid heat, bold and warm and empowering. She finished healing the wound, in deliberately quick strokes. But oh, how she'd wanted to linger, because the blood had brought with it a potent knowing.

Andy, who was not unmoved by the experience, managed a choked whisper of thanks. Then, because things were not done yet, she started to turn her attention back to the events that were still happening. She caught her breath as she encountered Miranda's gaze, it was blue fire. "Oh," she whispered, and it took everything she had to force her attention to where it needed to be.

She wasn't alone in the dilemma.

Serena, in the meantime, had left her spot at the table, and lifted the glass with both hands. She paced to the center, between the "U" of the table and bowed first to Tom, and then to Miranda. "With your permission?"

Tom had not exactly settled, his permission was more of a furious growl. Miranda's, however, was softly articulate, even as she was holding her newest son of the blood to his seat, "You may proceed."

The statuesque blonde continued then, taking the cup to Terry.

Paul, who was still standing, started to flit forward, but he was suddenly grasped; not by any of Tom's people, but by Tosri. "Get your hands off of me," he demanded, but they grimly held him firm.

The glass was set safely on the table before the woman. Serena said, "The offering of the blood of Asclepius and sanctuary has been witnessed and accepted. It is up to you, if you will partake."

The woman, who still had a hand clasped to her broken mouth, stared down at the glass. Paul roared, "Don't you do it! You know how I will punish you!"

"Paul, shut your fat trap. You lost the right to say any damn thing as soon as you did that to her. Think her Daddy is gonna be any sort of happy with that, do you? I'll run a bet not," Dorene called out. She stepped away from the table, and then made her way to the center of the U. She didn't move any closer to the woman, but her voice did gentle. "You've got a place with us, Terry. No matter what. You don't have to listen to him and he won't have you again. We take care of our own and we won't sell you down the river for some political bullcrap. But it has to be your choice."

The woman's attention drew up, and she looked at Dorene for several seconds. Then, dropping her hand from her face, she took hold of the glass and lifted it to her lips. At first she sipped, a tasting, more than anything, and then, as if she couldn't help herself, she drank it down so quickly that some of the blood escaped down the side of her mouth. But that escape was temporary, as it faded almost immediately, into her skin.

She began to shiver, to rock in the chair in a near erotic motion, and to keen like a wounded thing. The glass dropped from her hand, completely empty, dry; as she'd licked away every drop. Her eyes rolled up.

It was then that both Sam and Miranda let Tom go. He was up and at Terry's chair in a blink of an eye. He lifted her shaking form in both arms.

"You can't have her! She's mine! She's mine!" Paul struggled to get to them, fury causing spittle to fly into the air.

Miranda stood then, and she waved the Tosri who held Paul away. He jerked then, intending to do damage, but was astonished when he found he could not move. She stepped in front of him, expression cool, beyond fearless. She looked almost bored. "I find I am disappointed with the quality of leadership of the Tosri in this area. Something must be done." She glanced out at the gathered group of vampires before returning her attention to Paul. "To do that, we must address you and your offenses. First, you took something that did not belong to you, but to my son. Of course, he was not my son at the time, so, I will waive punishment for that. However, you broke contract, not with me, fortunately for you, but with your allies, the Feryn, the people of who you claim friendship, by damaging the gift that they gave you. That, I'm afraid will be punished and your Tosri will suffer." She let a shrug grace her shoulder, "But, again, not by me. Then I discover that you attempted to take something of mine."

Miranda let her teeth show then, and her eyes went the color of ice and then blood. "I should not have to mention that this was very poor planning on your part. After all, you could have started a war. And you may be sure your Tosri would have been dust under my feet. Fortunately for you, however, your minions were ham-handed at best. They failed their mission, which means, that which is mine was returned to me. However. She. Was. Harmed."

He screamed as Miranda's hand, now clawed, scored his skin and dug into him over his heart. She let her hand rest there in a deceptive, but intensely painful grip. "Your foolishness continues as you come to my table and disrespect my kin, my family. And then, you outright threaten Dorene, whom I regard with great affection. I shouldn't have to tell you that she's made a name in my halls. It is vanity to be fooled by the assumption of weakness simply by virtue of her humanity. She could take you." Miranda let that sink in, taking a moment to let her glance skim along the gathered Tosri, before returning it to Paul. "I considered letting her. But I shant, because her hands should not be sullied by your blood; more, it would doom your Tosri, as she is also Asclepius. And you do understand what would happen if harm had come to her? Let me ask this question of your people." Miranda turned then, focusing on the gathered Tosri, this time with an even fiercer deliberation. She let a part of her will, her aspect flower again and felt them groan under just a hint of the weight of her power. "Do you understand?"

She didn't wait for an answer, it was already in play. She released them to it, ready to finish things now. "I would have been within rights to have the Tosri clan sundered in its entirety. However, since she was not harmed, the punishment shall fall on you and you alone. I'm sure Thomas would like the pleasure, but honestly, some things one should do for oneself."

She ripped Paul's heart out without further ado and crushed it in her hand. It sifted into dust, which she let drop out of her palm, as he screamed into the flame that caught him up. She glanced at the two Tosri who had held Paul and said, "I suggest you and yours prepare for what is inevitable. That's all."

Then, that business concluded, Miranda turned to Tom and the woman in his arms. "How is she?"

He looked at his sire with amazement in his eyes. "Her teeth..."

Miranda drew closer to them then, and cupped the woman's face. Terry leaned into the touch, responding to the call of the Prestre blood that was now hers. "Show me," Miranda commanded gently.

Terry's smile was warm, perfect and brightly white. Her teeth had grown back, fangs and all, an impossible thing. "A miracle," Miranda whispered.

When she turned to look over her shoulder at Andy, Dorene and Connie, she couldn't hide her own smile of amazement.


	13. Chapter 13

TDWP: Enough Sunrises and Sunsets Pt. 13

The Tosri excused themselves under the watchful eye of the Prestre, filing out in a quiet, desperate hurry. The dust that was Paul was kicked deliberately more than once by those passing through, a final judgment. After all the lead up, it was a little anti-climatic. But then, a heart being pulled out of the chest might be quick, but it was still a violence. Yet, in some ways, given the way Miranda liked to make people swing in the breeze a bit before finishing them off at Runway, this did seem a touch different. And, given he was a vampire, he could have held on for days and years for any number of treatments that might be imagined.

Andy could imagine a few good ones that upset her stomach even contemplating them. On the other hand, he was a leader of a clan and they might have felt obliged to fight for him. Put him out of the way and then they would be busy rearranging their own lives for awhile. Far too busy to mess with Miranda's Prestre while they got their feet under them. So, even if she was maybe a little angry and that was a true motivation, this was a chess move. Yeah, quick and dead. A little dirty... As another puff of dust went up as another Tosri walked through Paul, Andy, was again reminded not to underestimate Miranda as the Matriarch.

Tom, meanwhile, with a weary and much changed Terry in his grasp, carried her, with Miranda's unspoken permission to Dorene; where he stood before the woman for a few wordless moments. When he could find his voice he said, "Dorene, I know that I am not worthy, because I let her go the first time. But I promise... I promise by whatever you will have me promise by, that I will take care of her, that I will ensure her happiness, that she will have a place at my table, a home for her rest, and the protection of our people."

"Terry? Is this acceptable to you? I have no qualms about getting on a plane tonight and taking you home with me. You have a place at the Sachs table." Behind her, Nan visibly flinched at the uncompromising quality of the words.

Andy leaned over, whispering to a near silence, "She'd take you with her. If you wanted to go. You know that right?"

Nan's white knuckled fists loosed, her hands flattened in her lap, and she tilted her head at Andy in thanks. Not that the socialite could just let Dorene just go, if it came to it. She'd follow her, at least to try and convince her that they could have a... something... together. After all, she had a plane on call. But a forced relationship was also not the kind of relationship she wanted to have with the perspicacious and dangerous woman. Oh, Dorene made her blood boil, in a good way and she knew enough of the physicist to know she could trust what was between them.

But it was a hard thing to hear, that she might go away so easily, so bluntly said. And that was when Nan knew she could not do without this woman; at all.

The brunette, not really oblivious to the riled emotion in the socialite, nodded as if the matter was settled then and returned her attention to what was going on between Tom and her aunt.

Terry, who was also not exactly in a place of speech nodded her head and pressed against Tom. Dorene might have pushed for a verbal acknowledgment, but she could see the woman was bone tired. She might have been healed, but it had taken all her energy to become so.

"Terry ever decides to leave, she comes home to us. She ever does something you don't like and you raise a hand to her, I will take you down. I won't even think twice. I like you, Tom, because you were smart enough to take care of our Andy. She thinks of you as family, so that makes you a Sachs of the heart. But you flip, boy, and I will skin you alive or undead or whatever you consider yourself. That's something I swear. You do right by Terry, or else."

"I will. I will, Aunt Dorene."

"Okay then," Dorene nodded sternly. "Go take care of our girl."

He blinked at her and then, he was away, as fast as night. Only then did Dorene let out the tension she'd been holding. "Well, I think that might be it for me tonight." She nodded then at the Matriarch, who gave a slow nod back, "Miranda."

Then she turned and said, "Nan, I expect I'll want some company in a few. Interested?"

Nan scooted her chair back, stood with aplomb. The upset of the previous moment was not forgotten, but the fierce emotions it had brought up were erased, and prioritized. She knew what she needed now. "You have to ask?"

"Well, doesn't do to assume." Dorene paced back around the table, until she was standing by Nan. Then she offered her arm, which the other woman took. "Andy, go to bed at a reasonable hour. Connie, behave yourself. I'll see you both in the morning."

And with that, Dorene led Nan out of the dining space without another glance back.

\- TDWP -

"How is it, that I'm a full grown adult and she still gets to tell me to go to bed?" Andy's complaint was half-hearted, but at the same time a touch plaintive. "Heck, she makes me feel like I ought to go right now, and technically speaking, I just woke up a little while ago ..."

Connie shook his head, leaned against the table and folded his arms, nearly pouting. "Tell me about it."

Emily looked between them in amusement. "You realize that you are both truly adults, yes? You do not have to actually follow her instructions to the letter."

Both Andy and Connie looked at the Brit like she'd lost her mind and said that she always thought haute couture was an alcoholic beverage.

"You don't understand, Em. It's a secret power. You won't know until she turns it on you and then...," Connie waggled his finger at the red-head. "... then you will truly understand the dilemma."

"It's like, if Miranda told you to go to bed at nine o'clock. You'd probably be thinking 'I am a free, fully capable adult. Why am I doing this?', but your ass would still be in bed at nine o'clock. Because she would know," Andy concluded, making the word 'know' extend spookily.

A passing Prestre, someone not involved in the conversation at all, said, "Tell me about it." They continued on their way without saying anything else, but shaking their head in empathy. The point was made.

"Everyone from our generation on down, including her students, will do anything she asks, usually without question." Connie continued.

"Yeah, it's kinda like how the fashion world responds to Miranda." Andy added. "Someone actually accused Aunt Dorene of starting a cult once."

"We've all got parents and such and all that," Connie continued, "but after the grandparents, she's the undisputed Matriarch of the Sachs family. Weird thing is, she doesn't have any kids of her own."

"Preach," Andy said.

Emily rolled her eyes. "I can see that logic won't be applied here."

"It's family, Em. Of course, logic doesn't apply." Despite herself, Andy grinned, and she extended a hand. "She didn't give me an exact hour, though, and I don't feel like eating in here any more, but..."

Andy was still a little freaked out that she'd just seen Miranda pull the heart out of a man. A part of her thought of all those times that someone had threatened that Miranda would kill her if some task didn't get done on time. How literal was that?

Okay, now she was just getting fanciful. Miranda was very adept at separating business from the personal, most days. Of course, this had been a bit of both, weighing strongly on the very personal side.

Andy could barely believe what she was justifying to herself, but at the same time, she didn't feel a thing about Paul's 'loss'. He did wrong and the local justice handled it; in this case, Miranda happened to be judge and executioner. Because, in one thing, Paul had been right. This had been a vampire matter. Her mind, and soul could adjust to the idea, since it was her choice to get involved with a vampire in the first place and she'd known, to a small degree, that the choice might lead to dangerous and unexpected corners. She simply hadn't expected Miranda to be in one of those corners. Maybe all of them.

She needed something lighter after all that.

"I could go for some dessert. Anyone else want to head to the pool and see what snacks they got out there?"

From behind her, they heard a cool, "I accept your invitation."

Andy felt a shiver run rampant along her spine, and turned to see Miranda. Strangely, her grin didn't falter at all and it only widened when she felt Emily take her hand. "Awesome."

\- TDWP -

They split off, for a bit, heading to rooms to get ready for time at the pool. The sun might be fast on its way to setting, but it was still warm enough, and would be warm enough long enough, for a dip if people wanted. And, things were definitely more casual in that particular setting, so Andy went with her usual beachwear; bikini, shorts, a shirt to cover if she needed it, sandals, which she didn't wear, but only brought along in case she needed them.

She met Sam at one of the tables, took a seat without worry about the need to ask. The blonde smiled and lifted her draft in Andy's direction. "Well played, tonight." Then, as a joke, she tapped her chest with her fist and flung out her hand with the peace sign. "Respect."

Andy, who'd grabbed something to drink on the way grinned and flopped her sandals carelessly by her chair and settled in. She lifted her libation in fellow-salute. "Not that I quite knew what I was doing. I just... I mean, I'd read a little bit, but nothing prepared me for..." She could not have begun to describe the sensation of Dorene's unintentional summons and the drive that had made her speak, made her spill blood in such a specific way, so she shifted focus a little. "... well, it had to be done."

Sam's eyes went dark. "Yes. It had to. Miranda has already contacted Terry's sire. It's going to be very ugly for the Tosri soon, and the grandsire. I have no wish for a bloodbath, but they should have guarded her more closely, even if Paul was their leader. And the grandsire's fault lay in arrogance, but even he should have known better than to sacrifice a true Childe on the altar of expediency. There are just some things..."

Sam closed her eyes, "I never imagined Paul doing that. Not in a million years, Andy. Her sire, Joshua, was devastated. Felt every one of the breaks, but couldn't get to her. Apparently Paul had taken her out of the States to do his dirty work. By the time Joshua worked out everything that had happened, it was over and Paul had covered his tracks. You might expect a visit, as he was also grateful, but not any time soon. He's going to be very busy." She opened her eyes again, her gaze dark, and lifted her bottle to her mouth and drank. She said then, "The politics are going to be just hell for awhile." In this case, Andy knew that politics was shorthand for what might possibly be a bloody war for ascension. She wondered, briefly, if Joshua had been Thomas' original sire, but then Sam offered a quickfire smile, "Makes me glad to be Prestre right now. Actually, I was glad about that beforehand, so..."

"So," Andy nodded, realizing that it didn't matter who it used to be. Miranda was in charge now, and that wasn't going to change. Though, really, she was going to have to talk to her about the whole possessive thing. Andy understood that Miranda considered her... hers. Because of her blood, and because of Tom.

But... if she was only a pawn, then, well, she might be the moth to the flame, but she'd force herself to fly away.

A flashback to the way Miranda's gaze nearly immolated her after Emily licked her palm, took her breath.

She wasn't sure, however, how much stake she should put into a look. After all, Miranda still hadn't actually said anything to her, except things along the line of quit bleeding and hang up your clothes. Not exactly romance fare, there.

Sam and she both took a swig of their drinks, a touch grimly and for different reasons, and spent a little time watching as the sun get a little lower. By the time they felt like talking again, Connie joined them, looking good in a pair of swimming trunks. He took a seat by Andy, and looped a friendly arm over her shoulder.

"Did I miss anything? Like a certain Brazilian …."

"No, she's not here yet. Though I think we'll know when she arrives."

"How so?"

Andy cocked a brow at him like he should know. Then he picked up the clue. "Oh. Right. Bathing suit, hot girl. People look."

Andy gave him the point and asked, "Word on when Lily and Doug are arriving?"

"Tomorrow morning. Lily didn't give a time, since she wants to meet us at the SWAG."

"Did you tell her how crazy it was there?"

"Yes. Yes. I did. But she said she'd post a text of where to be."

That's when it pinged for Andy. "Oh. She's bringing an exhibit then."

"Yep. Don't know how big of one, but apparently she got some space last minute. And she looped some assistants into coming with her so she doesn't have to stay at it all day. Something about executive prerogative." Connie looked about and said, "I thought there were going to be snacks..."

"Awesome. Good for her." Andy said, as she took another sip. "Snacks are on the way. I talked to William..."

"Goody."

He said something else, but by that time Andy's attention had faded out from him and narrowed down sharply. One might call it a flux in the force, but her sense of Miranda rose and her attention was suddenly scanning outward. She pivoted slightly, so she was facing the mansion entrance and then she went very still, very breathless.

"What?" Connie asked, exasperated because Andy hadn't answered his last question, but also curious as to what caught her unwavering attention. His next words were a mix of adoration and admiration. "Wow. Smokin'"

"Breathe, Andy," Sam said in a worried tone.

The reminder was enough to start the reflex, but Andy still stared as Miranda exited the building enough to be visible and then paused.

One might technically call what Miranda wore a one-piece, but that would only be because of the thin carefully shaped cloth which drew down the center from the top to the bottom and connected both pieces. The cloth opened to reveal the skin around Miranda's navel, and only enhanced the awareness that her build, while very womanly, was also sleek and muscular. Dangerously sexy.

She brought a shirt, which she carried along with her towel, on one arm. She didn't need it.

Andy knew exactly when they were spotted. Even with the designer sunglasses Miranda wore, Andy always knew when the editor was looking at her. She half expected for the woman to tilt her head in an unspoken order to "come," but she didn't. She simply pivoted slightly, looking back through the door, as if waiting.

Miranda, Andy remembered, never waited on anyone; except her kids. And on her, one time, in Paris, which perhaps should have told her then... Her mind did not linger on that reminder, but she could remember dozens and dozens of times racing after the woman, who was remarkably swift on those heels, and boy, now she understood why, while hastening to meetings and designer studios and any number of places that needed going to for the purposes of Runway or just Miranda. On the other hand, Miranda never sent her anywhere overtly spooky and she also realized now that the stories she'd heard from others of just such happenings were not Halloween tales.

Then again, maybe Andy wasn't there long enough to experience that anyway. Maybe that was yet another rite of passage she missed.

While the writer's thoughts were running helter-skelter through the past, it was only a few moments, not even a half a minute before the reason for Miranda's pause appeared.

Emily stepped out into the open, and she also looked gorgeous. The redhead's suit was also, technically, a one piece, though instead of a strip down the middle, the swimsuit was cut in a very deep v from bosom to trunk, but aside from the top and trunk, there was no backside to the top, no side. It was just a scrap of material covering those important bits, somehow flush against firm, strong flesh.

Miranda extended an arm, the one not carrying things and the Brit allowed herself to be intercepted. She offered Miranda a warm, excited smile that was positively transforming. This time it was Andy who said, "Wow," in respectful awe and wonder.

And then, Miranda drew Emily in, closer as if she were going to hug her.

Andy, in the sort of epiphany that happens when pieces come together and the mind runs amok with it, found herself contemplating her earlier awareness of Miranda and how she waited for family. Emily, she suddenly grasped to her bones, was Miranda's family, just like Nan had told her; well beloved and wanted. She thought she had got that before, thought she understood it, but she had been so caught up in the fact that walking away had its own consequences; including Emily's ascension in Miranda's ranks that the notion had only filled the back spaces of her mind.

She wasn't prepared for the happy. She wasn't prepared for the way Miranda looked at Emily, not as snack or child or even vampire lover. Though, really, how would she know? Sam and Tom had been very discrete and certainly Sam had latched onto the whole Dad thing with some great amusement, but... Andy knew there was more. She just hadn't associated it with Emily or Miranda.

She watched, both awestruck and stricken, as Miranda drew the redhead in, not just for a hug, not just for a peck, but for a kiss that was tender, warm, and only fleeting for the sake of decency, not because there wasn't heat.

And oh, there was heat, which suddenly pulsed through Andy in a fierce quick fire of jealousy and need and want that pulled her in multiple directions at once. Even then, she didn't begrudge them. Her responses, she knew, had nothing to do with them; and everything.

She watched as they held to each other, briefly, affectionately. Long enough that Andy felt as if she were intruding by staring, so she turned away, and long enough that she felt the consequence of Paris rattle around in her head again, this time, not as mere regret; which was another good reason to change her directions.

She needed, in that instant, that moment, that very second, to be anywhere, but where she was. She needed space, to process, to think, to get adjusted to the idea of something that, really, was a good truth. It was a good thing.

So why the pain, the almost physical sensation, as if she'd had a limb go missing somewhere?

Andy wasn't even aware that she had moved or started not quite jogging, taking the sculpted concrete steps down to the beach two at a time. Or that she, fleet footed, strode down the beach, sand flying. Or that the sunset she seemed to be dashing to, made her appear to glow.

She didn't really get perspective, until she was in the water, waist deep, feeling the waves rise and fall against her in small, strangely reassuring slaps. She took deep breaths, needing them, until she felt she had enough to hold. Then, she let herself sink into the ocean, into the brine, let it wash over her for a short count, not as long as she wanted, but long enough to scour the tears away and make them useful.

When she came back up, slow, without gasping, it was to face the sun and the turning sky; another beautiful sunset. Another tally. She watched it drop gold onto the surface of the water, tried to capture the sparkle with a playful hand. Then, feeling more herself she turned to go back; thinking to meet everyone at the pool, planning out her explanation, which would be patently false, but she hoped they'd let slide.

When she saw them standing just a little into the water, enough to get the feet wet, and with herself a little surprised she hadn't noticed, she offered a smile that had been warmed by the sun, freshened by the ocean. She walked out, the water trailing her like a falling cloak, until she was fully revealed. Miranda, her expression grave, offered the towel she'd been holding. Andy stepped forward, choosing this time to accept what was offered and intending to take it with her hands, but the woman covered her shoulders with it, drawing her hands down so that it was firmly in place, before letting Andy go.

Emily, on her other side, without warning, looped her arm under Andy's, supporting, said, "Better now?"

Andy looked back at the sunset, still gold on the water to be captured. "Yeah. Better now."

\- TDWP -

They didn't speak on the way back, but the their pace was more of a casual meander, pleasant in itself, wandering sometimes into the water and out as the waves receded or pressed in their path, with Emily on one side and Miranda on the other. Once or twice, someone called out, "Hey Andy!" The brunette always waved back, whether they were famous or not. The lights that glowed to reveal paths to Tom's house brightened as the twilight started to settle in. As they drew towards the steps that would lead back to the pool, they arrived near the beach showers, which were there to wash the salt off.

"This is my stop, I think." She looked at Emily and then at Miranda. "Thank you. That was … enjoyable."

Miranda stepped forward then, and her fingertips brushed Andrea's hair back. "Be sure to rinse completely off." Then, her fingertips drifted down, sliding along Andy's cheek, to rest under her chin. She gazed into Andy's eyes, seeking something, but Andy didn't know what. Miranda nodded anyway and as if she weren't even really thinking of it, her thumb brushed against Andrea's lips, leaving a cool tingle when she finally let her hand drop. "We will see you at the table? Connie assured us he would save us some of the edibles."

"I... Yes. I'll be there."

"Good." Miranda looked then at the redhead and tilted her head, not a jerking motion, "Emily?"

The redhead cocked a brow at Andy, whether in warning or a dare, or … she wasn't sure how to interpret it, but then Emily took Miranda's hand. It was a motion that was completely natural, as if they'd done it often.

"See you up there," Andy said, already dropping the towel on a nearby bench, and twisting the knob to start the water. She only watched long enough to see them start on their way, and then stepped into the shower, letting it do its job.

\- TDWP -

Thorough only went so far as the bathing suit, but Andy felt desalted enough to be presentable and to not risk the pool should she choose to jump in there too. By the time she was finished with the shower, she'd found her equilibrium again and was pretty sure she wouldn't be making any more heady rushes into the water. She looked for the towel, but it was gone, replaced by a dry one, which she used. She was really beginning to wonder about William and how he managed to do the things he did, and how he seemed to be many places at once.

Ascending the well lit stairs, she arrived to find that the evening's party was now in full tilt, this time with Runway staff included happily and a bit dazedly into the star-studded mix. Plenty of people were in the pool as well as the surrounding edges. "Their table," the one with Sam, Serena, Connie, Emily and Miranda, was comfortably lit by a soft light under the same vast umbrella which had provided shade in the daylight. She spotted them easily.

The only place to sit, and this did actually surprise her, was between Miranda and Emily. She wasn't entirely sure what to make of the situation. She had accommodated herself to the truth and had come to the conclusion that she would accept things as they were. She supposed they were just ensuring that she was "protected," somehow, as if she couldn't take care of herself.

For the first time, since this whole thing began and Tom had absconded with her to his house, she'd felt like pointing out that she'd been taking care of herself just fine for the longest time. Not only that, she had a good time doing it. And sure, she'd nearly drowned in the ocean, but that, aside from a choice at the end, had not been her fault.

She didn't need protecting, except from her heart and that she could do on her own too.

She didn't let them see those thoughts cross her face and deliberately kept her aspect one of smiles and uber-pleasantness, especially when she finally made it to the table. "Hey guys. Seat taken?"

\- TDWP -

A/N - 12/18/17 - This is another "Don't get excited" note. The chapters posted to TDWP: Enough Sunrises and Sunset are more that had been lingering in my folder. I wasn't confident about their direction, so I delayed posting. I'm still not confident of some of the direction I went in early on, so I've been dithering. That said, these two chapters felt like a satisfying set to post, so there you go. I have another one for TDWP: The Devil's Mistress, that I could probably post, but it's very, very naughty and I don't know if it would pass the fan fic's naughty-limit meter - even with the M posted right there. Not sure what to do. May have to shift that fic over to the Archive of Our Own. Am thinking on it. Merry Christmas.


	14. Chapter 14

TDWP: Enough Sunrises and Sunsets Pt. 14

In a way, Andy expected to have to fake her pleasant demeanor more, but after five minutes of just sitting there and the careful way no one actually asked what happened and the way Connie drooled at Serena, she found herself relaxing and just being amused by things. Her drink had been replenished and the snacks were plentiful, not too sweet or salty, but enough of each to enjoy. Miranda seemed to have no problem with snagging something out of the common platter, even if it meant reaching a little over the brunette to do it. Neither did Emily.

And because they made it seem natural and normal and like it happened just all the time, despite Andy 'knowing' different, somehow... Andy gamely fell under the spell of it, accepting that this was normal for now.

While there wasn't really small talk, the chat was somewhat idle, rotating a bit around SWAG and a bit around the sites to see nearby that Sam might recommend.

Andy found herself thinking about the fact that Lily and Doug would be arriving. At one of the lulls in conversation, she posed a question. "Connie, did Lils mention how much a spot at the SWAG was running?"

Her cousin raised a brow, "Well not in dollar amounts, but she said it was a bank shocker and she was glad it wasn't coming out of her account, if that's what you're asking. Why?" His query was a bit drawn out, as if he suspected that Andy had a nefarious purpose in mind.

"I was just curious," Andy said. She felt quite relaxed at that moment, between the refreshments and the non-provocative way Emily and Miranda were behaving around her, the lethargy she might normally have felt after such a huge emotional upheaval actually translated itself into something more comfortable.

"Curious," Connie repeated back and the way he said it was so careful, that this time it was Emily who gave her a glance sideways. Sam merely smiled in amusement. Miranda, while not exactly poker-faced, simply watched with interest.

"What? I was just..." Andy shrugged and prevaricated.

"No..." Connie corrected. "You had that tone in your voice."

"No tone." Andy denied. "I was just thinking about what people do with spaces at the SWAG. I mean, Lily's gonna put up a mini gallery. Some of the designers have some sweet set ups. You remember that haunted "house" we passed by on the way to the gothic-flavored cat walk."

"I do..." Connie said, his eyes beginning to light. "And where are you going with this?"

"Not where you're thinking. Though it would be fun to see if we could get away with a Tee-Pee tree right by it."

"Maybe some toilet seats with fake cherry trees hung with little bombs in strategic places." Connie projected.

"A few teddy bears with cellophane flames coming out of their heads..." Andy nodded.

"...labeled Flaming Pooh?" Connie started getting into the spirit of it quickly.

Andy grinned and kept on, "But, no, I was just thinking about the fact that we have a bazillion Runway staff here..."

"Exaggerate much, Andrea?" Miranda said, eyes glinting with something along the lines of amusement.

"Well, maybe not a whole bazillion..." Andy gave on that, but now her mind was churning, "but I was just thinking that while Runway now has a presence there, they don't have a space at SWAG to call their own. Look at all these poor, frolicking people." Her hand waved out in the general direction of those individuals playing in the pool, congregating in loud social groups around the patio, enjoying watching the stars that weren't in the sky. "... what will they do tomorrow, I mean aside from be very busy like usual ..."

"Andrea..." Miranda warned softly.

"And, well, maybe not a Runway thing. Maybe my poor dinky little website needs something like 'Visit adventure land.' With a blank space and two chairs set at the far ends from each other ..."

"That's ridiculous," Connie said. "It's not even a complete adventure."

"Anyone can have an adventure in their mind and I told you I was just asking. Now though, you've got me thinking. Thanks, Connie." Andy offered him her cheesiest grin.

"Who me?" Connie grinned just as ferociously back.

"Okay," Andrea leaned forward, mischief lighting up her eyes as if a light bulb had gone off behind them. She finally got to her real point, "Here's the thing. Connie, I want you to find out tonight where Lily's gonna be. We need to know as soon as possible. I'll make a couple of phone calls. We'll set up across from her display. Get some guy with coke-bottle glasses and frizzy hair..."

"...Wearing a lab coat," Connie contributed, as he immediately caught the thought. "Blackboards?" He inquired?

Andy puffed and waved her hand. "Blackboards are old school; white board, with projectors," she corrected.

Connie shifted closer, using his hands to demonstrate his thoughts, "It'll have all the cliches about 'who needs art?' With some antiquated images of bad art."

"Or kid kitchen paintings." Andy confirmed, also moving forward more and demonstrating.

Connie spread his hands wide, as if covering a board, "And the slides will drop with reasons that art should be done away with, like the social welfare of old ladies with kittens ..."

Andy moved her hands triumphantly. "Boo, art! Hurray, corporate thinking!"

Connie laughed and pointed. "Lily will keel you. I am so totally down for this."

Andy looked as if she were going to say more.

"Stop." Miranda's placed a hand on the brunette's thigh. It grabbed Andy's attention immediately. "Go back to the Runway scenario."

Andy looked sheepish for a moment, but gamely explained. "I hadn't even built a scenario yet. Though, it would be fun to put a catwalk with a bunch of chairs around, and have models carrying Runway signs up and down, wearing something diaphanous, but also, say, horse halters with bridles and reins.

"Have a couple of teamsters looking dangerous and tough. Snapping out with those thin leather whips ..." Connie said.

"Maybe hay-bales as the seats at the front, or lining up along the catwalk. The models wear those platform shoes. They should all be black leather patent, black soles and heels all the way down."

"Stop." Miranda drawled slowly, giving an arch look at Andy's obvious tease; especially given a conversation she overheard earlier in the day. "There will be no horse models. Not with Runway's name. We are not the Equestrian. Try again. Emily, call Nigel."

Emily, who was wearing that fantastically revealing bathing suit and was sans phone, looked at Miranda with a raised brow. It was Sam who saved the day. She raised her hand, and just said, not shouted, "William. Phone."

"Sure, spoil the fun. But fine." Andy shrugged and exhaled, and suddenly William was there. He handed Sam a portable phone, who handed it to Emily. He made himself scarce as soon as Andy looked at him. "Seriously, Sam, how many Bills are there? He's just everywhere."

"Just the one," Sam said, "But he's very versatile. And he's still terrified of you. What did you do to him?"

"Nothing. That I can remember." Andy looked at Miranda and cocked her head, narrowed her gaze, "How do you feel about prize fighting?"

\- TDWP -

By the time Nigel arrived, Andy and Connie had flashed through several brainstorms, hashing them out in thorough, quick succession, with Miranda redirecting or nodding at ideas as they rose. Emily didn't exactly refuse to take notes, but she was smart enough to contact Sandra, who did do the job; as Emily, felt quite right with throwing her own ideas into the mix, once she understood a theme. As did Serena, who recognizing the rarity of such an opportunity tossed in her thoughts with a surprising fearlessness. Nigel had the joy of playing both secondary director and referee, pushing them all, except for Miranda, with that artful professionalism that had garnered the snowy-haired editor's faith in the first place.

Sam, in the end, was the one who made the phone calls, only having to hand the phone to Miranda once when someone needed a little more convincing, and kept William busy refreshing drinks and the snacks; and sundry other duties.

Sometime later, Miranda was nodding with a pleased expression. Runway had gained not just a space at the SWAG, but a prominent one, garnered from one of the early departures from an unsuccessful run, and plans had been set in motion that would enhance their reputation with the kind of flair that could be expected at such an event. Irv would be both hysterical about the cost, already mitigated by the fact that the staff no longer had to stay at a hotel, but he would also be thrilled at the marketing. Which, really, they should have thought of it in the first place. They were going to have a very intense staff meeting after SWAG when everyone returned home.

Either way, for Miranda, it would be a win. Plans for teasing Lily and any other designer at the SWAG had been nixed by Miranda's simple declaration of, "As of this moment your design team represents Runway, which means no..." She nearly said mayhem, but changed the phrasing to one less provocative, as she suspected that would have resulted in the opposite of her wishes, "... competitive themes for this year's SWAG."

That had successfully flummoxed both Andy and Connie, who had said, "But what about the pirates?"

"... and the rum?"

"...and the island?" in lament. They had both really liked that idea and had practically built the the space in their minds.

"Especially not," Miranda had said, eyes glinting with terrible entertainment, but expression stern. She was thanking divinity she had twins and knew how to deal with bouncing conversations and adorable pouts.

"Well, I know when to quit," Connie had thrown down a napkin like a gauntlet in mock anger. "Andy, I declare a swim."

"Brilliant. I need to cool off..." Andy meant that in more ways than one. Both Miranda and Emily, once things had started, seemed to have no problem touching Andy in random succession. Sometimes it was to redirect, but more often it seemed as if it was just something that they wanted to do. And, while on the surface the touches had been innocuous enough, she was feeling a definite heat in certain parts of her anatomy. It did not stop her from grousing as she stood up. "...No pirates. I bet Dorene would have let us have pirates, especially if she could be one."

"I know." Connie's arms rose in an emphasized-shake, as he continued to grouse. "It was nearly harmless. We would have made sure they used plastic swords for the sword fights." He swung an imaginary sword in Andy's direction.

She was already countering. "Except for Dorene's. It'd have to be one of those replicas, but with blunted edges." Andy reminded him. Then she grumbled, "I was really looking forward to the trollops."

"Me too!" Connie said, as they both started toward the pool without looking back at the bemused observers.

"What was that?" Nigel finally managed, "And who was that Andy? Where was that girl at Runway?"

"Fetching the perfect coffee and trying very much to fit into our normal." Miranda replied thoughtfully.

\- TDWP -

Andy and Connie cavorted around in the water a little bit. Despite some myths, vampires did not sink to the bottom of a pool, though they could swim without breathing. And, there was simply no point in trying to race one. Not that Andy didn't try for a few laps. Even with a head start Connie took down her record handily. "It's just not right," groused Andy, but Connie took his win where he could find it and she graciously, except for one fist to his shoulder impact, which did no damage whatsoever, let him have it.

After diverting themselves, they split off. Andy wanted some time in the shallow end, while Connie had spotted Serena making her way toward the deeper end and wanted to try convincing her to join him.

The brunette made her way toward one of the wide, clamshell-shaped decorative steps that allowed a person to sit in the water or climb out. She sat down. The crowd was thinning some, and the air was cooling. Her skin pebbled as a soft breeze passed.

She turned, a little, feeling presence before knowing. "Hey Em."

The redhead took a seat beside the writer. She said nothing for a little while and they sat in companionable silence. Then she said, quietly, "Seems to be just a little past a reasonable hour. I think you've proved you're a grown up now."

Andy chuckled despite herself. "Yeah. I'm kind of tired, but didn't want to admit it yet."

Emily proffered a hand, "Come on then."

Andy took her hand, but didn't quite start getting up. "You know, Serena is being far too nice to Connie. I fully expected a bruised ego by now."

"She likes him. She'll let him down easy."

Andy turned and looked at Emily, catching the inflection. "Like she did you?"

The redhead's breath caught and her expression tightened. But she couldn't verbalize it. Odd how, even when one had what they had sought, some things still hurt anyway.

Andy's grip tightened on her friend's hand. "Alright, take me to..." She almost said bed, but caught herself, "... my room." Emily stood up gracefully, tugging Andy along with ease, but not too much force. The brunette looked back to the table where Sam and Miranda still sat, chatting about something which had the blonde looking very earnest.

Probably some vampire business.

Andy returned her glance to Emily, and realized she had so many questions she wanted to ask and very few she felt daring enough to. The redhead, once they were out of the pool, took her by the arm again. The started toward her rooms and Andy said, somewhat speculatively. "You would have made a good pirate, I think."

"Damn right," Emily replied.

\- TDWP -

The next morning Sam described some of the previous evenings happenings to an entertained audience of Dorene and Nan. They were waiting in the sitting room for certain members of their party to finish getting ready for the day. "And then they went swimming. It was just... amazing, actually."

Dorene and Nan sat on a loveseat across from Sam, who had taken an overstuffed chair. They were all impeccably dressed, but their body language was languidly casual. Dorene's arm was wrapped comfortably around Nan's shoulder. The professor rolled her eyes a bit and then nodded, "Yeah. They've been like that their whole lives. It's as if, when they're together, their I.Q. triples. They come up with the most brilliant ideas, barnstorming away.

"You mean brainstorming?"

"I wish I meant the mere act of brainstorming, but no. Did that feel like simple brainstorming to you?"

"No," Sam said. "No, it was not." It had been far too... magical a process.

Dorene lifted her hands as if to say, that would be the point. "Okay, maybe it is brainstorming, but barnstorming, where they are concerned, is much more descriptive. That's why they were not allowed together without adult supervision until they were old enough to be held accountable for whatever mayhem they created. Although, by then they could use tools accurately and that was its own problem. And when the fearsome foursome gather... watch out." She grinned, "At least this time they used their power for good."  
Sam snorted, "Only because Miranda was there." The blonde's head lifted and swiveled toward the open doorway, "Speaking of..."

"Has Andrea made an appearance yet?"

"No. Connie stopped by. He mentioned something about Andy getting coffee?"

The editor's expression, which had darkened a touch, suddenly brightened. "Coffee?"

"Here."

It was a very, very rare thing for Miranda to be surprised. It was even rarer that a person carrying coffee should startle her; not that she ever let it show. In fact, that was one of the reasons she had her assistants make the run, coffee was such a unique scent, and her specific blend was one she could recognize in her sleep. Thus, she always knew when they were on the way or had been in her office. Not that there weren't always other clues, perfume, placement of objects. But coffee was one of her reliable methods of determining the reliability of her assistants. Those who tried, who ran the gauntlet for her, benefited. Those who delivered the mediocre effort or had other agendas, well, they did not last.

Yet, somehow, Andrea had managed a feat that no one else could accomplish, nor had.

It was, Miranda recalled, a slight habit of the writer; one that she at first found disturbing and then, later, had come to rely on. As Andrea had only ever used this particular talent when delivering her coffee. Perhaps it was the price of perfect timing. She had to trust the delivery.

She took the insulated cup out of habit, noting that it was not Starbucks, therefore it had to be a more... local... blend.

"Thomas has a variety of beans. You would not believe how many different types. Took me forever to find the right one. And the machine requires a diploma to run, but I got it figured out," Andy said as she passed by, once the cup was safely in the right hands. She took a seat. "Hi everyone."

"What, you didn't get coffee for me?" Dorene mock pouted.

"Sorry, that kind of free random service happens on my good days and for one person only. Not you." She did not mention that, knowing Miranda was on the premises had made the need to fetch her coffee almost a compulsion. It was a strangely comforting habit and she'd had no idea how deeply it ran in her.

"Wounded. To the core." Dorene dramatically placed her hand on her chest. "On the other hand, I'm a philistine when it comes to coffee, so it doesn't matter. Instant'll do for me."

"Thus," Andy said. "No wasted effort. Um. Dr. Acheson stopped me on the way, said he might have something for me later this afternoon. I'll probably be bailing early from the fun and games."

Miranda, coffee in hand settled in a free overstuffed chair. "I will make arrangements to see that you are accompanied home. You will keep Emily informed." Even as Andy opened her mouth to argue, Miranda lifted a finger in caution and said, "That is not up for discussion." She took a sip of perfection, and in a rare act of trust, closed her eyes so she might linger in appreciation.

Her exhale, a near hum of bliss, while not accompanied with a smile, did cause one for Andy, as well as a subtle relaxing of the brunette's shoulders, even though her acceptance of the command was slightly terse, "Fine. I will."

Miranda did not bother to reply as the matter was settled and she wanted to absorb as much of the coffee as she could, while she could.

\- TDWP -

A/N - My Beta Reader said I had to post this one too. So here we go. I wouldn't expect any more postings for the season, as I'll likely be doing some family things. But Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays. (December 23, 2017)


End file.
